Ain't No Rest for the Wicked
by A Girl In NYC
Summary: Monika is friends with Kurt, Dale & Nick. She & Kurt are sick of her cokehead, playboy boss, Bobby. The night the boys agree to kill their bosses, Monika agrees. When she accidentally falls in love with Bobby, will it ruin the boys' murder plot? Bobby/OC
1. Takin' Care of Business

Author's Note: **Alright, I saw the movie _Horrible Bosses _and thought it was hilarious, as funny as the _Hangover_, maybe better. Everyone was great, and the character who stood out most to me was Colin Farrell's character. He was insane, hilarious, and a tool. And I thought that he deserved a bigger part of the story and that he was criminaly underused. I wanted to write a fanfiction, and for some reason the thought came to me - what if there was a girl in the boys' crew, and she accidentally fell in love with one of the bosses, how would it change things up? **

**So this is the fanfiction, the first chapter. I really, really want to continue this, so please review and let me know if you like it! The more reviews, the quicker the update! Thanks!**

* * *

**1**

My name's Monika. I'm twenty-three, living in Los Angeles, California, with my best friends since high school; Kurt, Nick and Dale. And, I have a vicious little freak as a horrible boss. Bobby Pelitt, the new CEO of Pelitt & Son Chemical Company. Just my luck. And I'm not a accountant, manager, employee, or cubicle worker. I'm his personal assistant.

And because of Dale, Kurt and Nick, I was pulled into a murder plot to kill him.

I didn't expect to be, originally I was happily the personal assistant of his kindly and benevolent father, Jack Pelitt. Bobby's a cocaine-addicted, obnoxious, prostitute-loving douche-bag. Being his assistant, I had to spend my entire day with him. We have a love-hate relationship. Originally it was just a hate relationship, until my three idiot friends, Kurt, Dale and Nick, persuaded me drunkly one night at our local bar that we needed to kill our bosses.

And I ended up falling in love with Bobby.

Yes, I ended up falling in love with a spoiled, cocaine-addicted, matrial-arts obsessed, prostitute-loving, idiotic dipshit playboy.

I have no clue why, but underneath all my hatred for the vicious little freak everyone refers to as Bobby, I loved him. And, as you can guess, it changed things for Kurt, Dale, Nick and my plan to kill Bobby and the rest of our bosses, Julia Harris (sex-crazed dentist of Dale's), and slave-driving physco Dave Harkin (Nick's boss).

I knew the guys since high school, and we were attached at the hip. I was the only girl in the crew, but that didn't matter. I fit in with them. Whether we were at the bar venting to each other, playing the Wii at Kurt's apartment, or partying at night, we were really close. We hung out almost every night, and one night we just had enough of our bosses annoying us. Whether our boss was a slave-driving physco, sex-crazed maneater, or in my case, a sleazy womanizing cokehead tool, we knew we had to do something about them ruining our lives. When Jack Pelitt was the boss at Pelitt & Son, everything was bliss. Jack Pelitt was reasonably elderly, warm-hearted, calm, gentle, and just an overall awesome guy to work for. Kurt and I had no complaints.

Bobby was taller than me (which according to him, made it acceptable that he could talk down to me), martial-arts obsessed, and snorted cocaine almost every two minutes. Bobby was the exact opposite of his father; young, obnoxious, egotistical, and a playboy. I have to confess, I annoyed him just as much as he annoyed me. So I guess we are both guilty. And it was a quiet, normal day at work. Kurt works as an accountant for Pelitt & Son, and ironically, we work in the same office, which works out because I'm so close with him. As I was explaining, it started as a normal work day in California.

"Jack, I have your appointments for this afternoon," I said, beginning to walk in stride with Jack and Kurt as the two walked towards me, as I exited Jack's office. Kurt threw me a smile as a hello, and Jack said, "You're always on top of your game, Monika. Thank you." He gave me a kind smile, and I handed him the folder with his appointments.

Jack, Kurt and I walked near the bathroom, and we all stopped when Kurt saw Marge Emerson, a pregnant employee with a brown bob, standing outside the bathroom. I rolled my eyes, already knowing why she was standing there waiting and who she was waiting for.

"Marge, you alright?" Jack asked, jerking his thumb to the bathroom door. Marge smiled patiently, "Hi, Mr. Pelitt. Kurt, Monika. Oh, it's just I've been waiting here for a while now."

"Who's in there?" Jack asked.

Marge sighed, "Your son."

"Bobby!" Jack called, and a giant snort, rambling, a choke, and a cough with a subtle "Oh, my God." was heard from behind the bathroom door as his response. Bobby's voice was attractive, rough yet clear, and crude. He staggered out of the bathroom, his eyes dialated and a smug smirk on his face. He had a dark maroon shirt on and yellow tie dangling from his neck. He was rambling to himself "I get no privacy around here" as he made his way back to his desk, but Jack stopped him, "Bobby!"

"What?" He asked, annoyed, as he sniffed and ran a hand across his nose. "Are you alright? Lately you've been spending more time in the bathroom than at your desk." Jack said, shoving on his coat. Bobby gave him his signature "are you stupid?" look, and sniffed up.

"I didn't realize that I had to tell you everytime I took a dump." Bobby snapped, a smug expression on his face. He finished off with shooting a dirty look at me, and I returned it with a glare. Something me and Bobby always did, swap evil glares and eventually shit on each other. There was something about the two of us that made us clash. I hated his guts and he hated mine.

Bobby Pelitt, my boss's Dipshit Cokehead Son.

Blackish-brown hair, paranoid brown eyes, goatee, slim body, taller than me, and regrettably, handsome face.

"You need me to tell you when I go pee, too?" Bobby asked sarcastically, his swagger and cockiness in his speech. Kurt gave a annoyed, disapproving glance at me with an eyeroll towards Bobby. "All I'm saying is that you need to do your part, son. That's all." Jack pointed out, giving Bobby a gentle yet warning look.

Bobby scowled and muttered, "I do my part." His voice escalated, "I do other peoples' parts. But that doesn't really matter to you because you like to ride my ass 'cause I'm your son, right?" He pointed at Kurt and continued rambling to Jack, "I don't hear you giving dickskin any shit."

"Dickskin? Nice." Kurt remarked sarcastically.

"Or the skank." Bobby snapped, ignoring Kurt, pointing at me accusingly, and I looked at him like he was stupid. Bobby was always the first one to pick the fight, and it annoyed the shit out of me.

"C'mon. Kurt, Monika." Jack ignored his son's rudeness, choosing to walk away. "Kiss ass." Bobby retorted to Kurt as the two walked away.

"Fuck, Bobby." I said to him as Kurt and Jack walked away, "Would it kill you to not be an assholish prick to your father when he's just asking if you're alright? He cares about you. My God."

"Takes one to know one, Monika." Bobby replied, giving me an attitude-filled expression, "And yeah, it would. 'Cause you know how he is, always shitting on me and riding my ass to get back to work. You _never_ take my fucking side. No one ever does. I work my fucking ass off at this shithole for nothing." He hissed.

"You were snorting cocaine in the bathroom, you idiot." I replied, quickly giving him annoyed glance, "That's not 'working your fucking ass off'. That's getting high in you're dad's company bathroom because you're lazy as shit."

Bobby flipped me off, "Fuck yourself, Monika."

"Go snort another line, Bobby. Even better yet, go hit yourself in the balls with your nunchucks." I retorted.

Kurt reappeared and grabbed my shoulder, "Alright, I'm gonna break this up before you get into another fistfight again. Or you try punch each other's lights out like last time." I glared at him and Kurt grabbed me, "C'mon, Monika."

"Yeah, go on. Get outta here." Bobby snapped, "Cause I'm a green belt, motherfucker."

I rolled my eyes, Kurt gently pushing me out the door and shooting Bobby a glare. I sighed and ran a hand through my straw-blond hair, the annoyance of that idiot giving me a pulsing headache. "Why the hell do you let him get in your head? You know he likes to be a prick to you, Monika. You guys are always fighting. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"I hate Bobby." I muttered in response, but shut up once we met up with Jack outside, ready to climb into his car. He opened the door and leaned on the top of the car door gently. He smiled caringly at Kurt and I.

"You two are happy here, right?" Jack asked, then looked at me with an understanding smile, "Obviously, besides you and Bobby's dysfunctional fighting. I don't think he really means everything he says to you, Monika." I laughed despite my current headache due to his idiotic son, but I nodded. "Obviously, Jack."

"Of course." Kurt gave a small smile. In my opinion, Kurt should've been Jack's son, not Bobby. Kurt and Jack had a father/son relationship, and I knew that Bobby loathed Kurt for it and resented his father for not treating him like his son. He was jealous. I confess that I felt bad for Bobby, because not matter how much he attempted to please Jack, Kurt always one-upped him. Not intentionally, but he did.

"Kurt, Monika." Jack said calmly while he sat down in the car, shut the door and put the keys in the ignition, "You've got a bright future here. Someday soon it will be one of you runnin' this place. See ya, kids." He flashed us a small smile, and began to drive away. Kurt and I began to go back into the office, when we heard a loud crash. We exchanged looks, turned around, and Kurt gasped.

"Oh, _shit_."

* * *

I sat around the round, small bar table with Kurt and Dale, Nick getting our drinks. I was sulking, my eyes red-rimmed from earlier, my head clouded with confusion and exhaustion. I was on my third watermelon vodka. Dale sat on my right and Kurt on my left. Nick came with the drinks, setting the tray down in front of us.

Nick was the quiet, more levelheaded one in the group, responsible and ambitious. Dale was the crazy, idiotic, twitchy short one who made everyone smack him on the back of the head. Kurt was a lothario, a womanizer and a partier. I loved all three of them and they were like my brothers. I could tell them anything, and sometimes I wondered if we knew what each other was thinking. Even though sometimes we got on each others' nerves.

"They said his heart burst in his chest like a water balloon." Kurt sighed, staring at nothing in particular. He was so upset by Jack's sudden heart attack at the wheel, as was I. Dale took a sip of his drink and said, "I'm sorry, guys. Kurt, I knew you guys were close and had that father/son thing going on." Kurt nodded. "I loved that guy, he was awesome to work for. I actually looked forward to my job." Kurt confessed, running a hand down his face.

I twirled my stud piercing on my ear in impatience, and I added, "Now Bobby's gonna be in charge. I have to be his fucking personal assistant. I have to spend every second with him. Every. Single. Fucking. Second." I groaned, leaning back in my chair.

"The cokehead?" Dale asked, surprised. "Is that the guy who you fight with? You have to be his little servant?"

"Yes." I muttered, taking a swig of watermelon vodka. Kurt nodded, grabbing my glass of vodka, "Every time she's stressed about him, she drinks her shit vodka. And you guys have no idea how many times I've caught him blowing at work."

"That's why I keep a bottle at the office." I put my head on the table, stressed out. "And better yet, I don't have the money to pay my rent. Bobby's going to cut down my paycheck, and I'm going to freak out. I can barely afford my fucking apartment! He's out to get me, I swear."

"He really does hate you." Kurt said, "But what do you expect? It's Bobby. He's a dipshit."

"The whole thing's a bummer, guys. I'm sorry. You two are the only ones who seemed to like going to work." Nick said, taking a sip of beer. "Did I tell you guys that Harkin tricked me into taking a glass of Scotch at eight o'clock this morning?"

"I thought he was going to give you a promotion." Dale asked, his voice high-pitched in surprise. "Is that the douchebag who made you work so late you couldn't say goodbye to your grandmother?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, the same guy. And yes, he is. But this is when he's being extra evil, because he knows after the promotion he can't torture me." Nick sighed, rolling up his sleeves. Dale turned rigid and huffed, "Well at least your bosses aren't sexually harassing you."

"Bobby spanked Monika twice. I _think_ he was coked up. Does that count?"

"Kurt, shut the fuck up." I replied.

"Oh yeah, didn't he grope you at an office party or something?" Dale burst out laughing.

"Shut up." I smacked Dale upside the head. "Don't encourage him." I snapped at Kurt.

"I just don't see why you are so hysterical about it. You have a gorgeous dentist boss and yet you complain about her all the time. You aren't going to get any sympathy from us." Nick said, and Kurt laughed and nodded. Dale was getting serious, "She's getting crazy. It's a total hostel work enviorment there, you guys. It's not funny. Today she started spraying water on my crotch!"

"That's great! What's wrong with that?" Kurt looked at Dale like he was out of his mind. "She sounds like a whore." I muttered. "Thank you! At least Monika agrees with me!" Dale exclaimed, slapping an arm around my shoulder. Kurt and Nick rolled their eyes, "That's cause she's a chick. Women naturally hate other sleazy women." Kurt exclaimed.

"Why don't you just fuck her?" Kurt asked.

"Cause I'm engaged to Stacy and I love her!" Dale explained, as if Kurt was stupid. "I really like Stacy. She's so sweet." I reassured Dale, and he smiled at me. "Why don't you just get another dental hygenist job?" Nick inquired.

"He's a child molester, Nick!" I burst out laughing, and Kurt joined in. Our sides were practically splitting as Dale turned a hue of dark red, blushing. Nick choked out a laugh, too, "Sexual deviant? Sex offender? How do they classify it?"

"Registered sex offender, yes. And all because I took a piss in the middle of the night on a fucking playground. There were no kids anywhere. Trust me, it's not a good idea to have a bar next to a playground." Dale rambled, chugging his beer.

A girl walked by and Kurt's eyes lit up. "If you three would excuse me, I have to see that girl about her vagina. Bye." All three of us exchanged "that's so typical of Kurt" looks, and I took another chug of vodka, preparing for the long road ahead as the personal slave of Bobby Pelitt.

* * *

Kurt and I walked into Pelitt & Son, drained from Jack's funeral, which Bobby didn't attend. It was my first day as the slave to the insane cocaine king, and I wasn't ready for him nor did I have the patience for him. He was at least five years older than me yet he had more energy. Probably his coke. I was mentally prepping myself, but it didn't last long. I threw off my jacket onto Kurt's desk chair, wearing a casual dress that was slightly above my knee and was white at the top and grey at the bottom. My white flip-flops weren't really dressy, but I was exhausted and drained of emotions to even care about my stupid outfit.

"Yo, dickwad! Slavegirl!" A gruff, crude voice chimed in my ears. Kurt and I swirled around, Bobby giving me a disapproving look as he sat in a giant leather office chair in his office. "What the fuck? You're three hours late." He pointed to his wrist, which had no watch on it. Idiot. "What's the deal?"

"We were at your father's funeral." Kurt said, giving Bobby a disgusted look. Bobby looked down at his tie, "Uh-huh, mhm. Yeah, that excuse may have fallen if my dad was here, but I'm in charge now." Bobby glanced up at me and gave me a smug, cute little smirk.

"Just how much have you snorted this morning? That excuse wouldn't make any sense if your dad was still here," I pointed out, arching my eyebrow at him and throwing him a look, "And Bobby, I'm really not in the mood for you right now."

"Monika, that's exactly the disrespect I'm not tolerating from you. Things are gonna change around here, and I'm not gonna have my servant talk to me like that. There will be punishments." Bobby kept his cute little smirk, and I said, "Alright, your majesty. Whatever you say."

He flashed us a smug grin, scrunching himself back to his desk, "In my office, _now_."


	2. Trouble is A Friend

**Thank you so much for the positive feedback for chapter one! I feel like if I finish this story, I could do a lot of things with it in its' chapters. So I really, really wanna keep writing! Please review, because I'll only update if there are some reviews :) Thank you so much!**

**2**

I sighed, looking at Kurt for support, but he shrugged. I mean, Bobby was now officially our boss. He had the right and authority to tell us what to do, no matter how much we hated to confess it. I threw my bag on Kurt's office chair and followed him into Bobby's office, which used to be Jack's before he died. I was so unhappy now, I just wanted to not be at this stupid company working for the maniac sitting in front of me. The economy was so terrible now, and my rent was already a month or so late. Quitting was not an option.

"What?" Kurt asked, Bobby staring out the window so that the giant leather desk chair had it's back facing us. He swirled around, acting childish and irresponsible, which was usual Bobby behavior. He gave a leer at both of us. He stood up, and pointed to me, "Monika, sit."

"I'm not your dog, Bobby." I grumbled as I obidently sat across from him, pushing a blond strand of hair behind my ear. Kurt stood beside me.

"Good girl." He retorted, flashing me a bantering, smug smile. He resided back on his leather chair, and straightened out his tie. I eyed him, and almost burst out laughing at his dim-wit name tag on his desk, which originally read 'Jack Pelitt', but had a piece of pale masking tape across 'Jack' on the metal name plate and scribbled in with blue magic marker 'Bobby'.

On his desk were millions of papers, a few things he'd taken down from the walls from his dad such as certificates and degrees, and a small mirror used to dice up his cocaine and his straw to snort it. I rolled my eyes when I saw it.

I never imagined him being my boss, ever. I mean, he didn't work. He partied, snorted cocaine in the bathroom, and got drunk at the office parties (which he groped me at, awkwardly). He was a lazy, dirty playboy who wanted the company's money, cars, cocaine, and to hire hookers. It didn't take a genius to know that. Not only was he my boss now, but I had to cater to his every need. Make appointments, make calls, get him stuff, and respond to everything he asked of me.

"I've been looking through the books, and I guess that you're my new personal assistant, given that my dad's now in the ground." Bobby grinned at me egotisically, his cockiness in his posture as he sat lazily in his leather office chair, "And so, just for some insight on your new position as my bitch, you're going to be pretty fucking busy with me."

"I'm _pissing_ in anticipation." I mumbled, and he gave me that cute little smug smirk again, "I'm happy you're so fucking excited, Monika. Don't get too riled up, you might hurt yourself." He adjusted his tie and tugged on his dark red shirt.

He looked at Kurt, "You're the accountant. So tell me. Why is this company in the crapper?" I felt my face flush as I stared at Bobby, given that he now called me his bitch. "We aren't in the crapper," Kurt said calmly responded, "We're just in recession, but we're still profitable."

"Bullshit." Bobby said icily, sucking in breath, "Look, I know you and my dad were, ah, pals. Okay? And frankly, I always thought it was a little weird and gay and I never had any clue why he thought you were so fucking special. But that doesn't matter now, because he's in the ground and I'm your boss." He shot me a look to remind me that he was my new boss, too. "And there are going to be some changes around here."

"Can't wait to hear 'em." I muttered sarcastically, earning myself a long dagger look from Bobby.

"First thing's first. Enviortech Waste Mangement. What the fuck's this about? It's costing us a lot of money." He looked at Kurt and I, holding up a sheet of paper and had an impatient leer on his face. I sighed, "Your father choose that company to get rid of the company's toxic waste responsibly. In order to do that, we have to spend more money on it. It's worth it."

"Bolivian said that they'd do it for a third of the price. I'm hiring them." Bobby objected. "No, you can't go to them." Kurt interviened. "Why?" Bobby asked, in a tone that sounded like he asked, 'are you stupid?'.

"Because you're going to endanger thousands of peoples' lives, Bobby. They all live were we would be getting rid of the toxic waste." I cut him off, "Not only would the company get in a horrible amount of trouble, we could possibly kill a ton of people. Me and your dad discussed this before and Bolivian isn't an option. It's too hazardous to residents' health."

"Oh, I don't give a fuck if some local tribesmen gets cancer! Cry me a fuckin' river!" Bobby raised his voice at me, standing up from his chair. I stood up, too. "Monika, get them on the phone and stop fucking caring so much."

"They're a modern society! We can't kill local residents!" Kurt shouted, getting annoyed at Bobby's stubborness.

"C'mon, Bobby. That's life or death. You can't go and spill toxic waste in their water supply! That's insane and cruel." I argued, glaring at him. "You know it is. Spending one or two more thousand dollars is better than endangering adult and children's lives with toxins. Seriously, you can't really think that's the better option?"

"Do I _look_ like I fucking care?" Bobby said, throwing his arms up, clearly showing he didn't care.

"Okay, alright! Look, Bobby. Your dad told me very clearly that he would rather die, than save money and hurt people, okay?" Kurt stepped in, attempting to persuade him. I looked between the two of them, hoping Bobby would actually consider what Kurt and I were attempting to explain. He didn't, of course. "Guess what?" Bobby said, lowering his voice so he was shouting anymore, "It looks like we're right on schedule, right?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Okay, what else?" Bobby said to himself, looking around at the papers messily strewn across his huge desk, "Oh, yeah. We have to trim some of the fat around here." I gave him a confused look, and Kurt asked, annoyed, "What? What do you mean by 'trim the fat'?"

"_What_?" I asked him.

"I want you to fire the fat people," He said, looking at me with wide, paranoid brown eyes, his voice clear, rough and crude, "They're lazy, and they're slow. And they make me sad to look at." He pointed to the window of his office, which had the outlook of the entire work space, "You can start with large Marge." He pressed his intercom, "Marge, can you come in here please?"

"Marge isn't fat, Bobby! She's pregnant. You know, women get bigger when they have a baby inside them? When they're expecting? It doesn't mean they're fat." I said sarcastically, as if I was explaining it to a five-year-old. "It happens."

"I'm not firing her." Kurt said simply, looking at Bobby like he was stupid.

"Alright, fine." He shrugged, pressing the intercom and telling Marge to stay where she was. "Then one of you can fire Professor Xavier." Bobby said, walking to the window and peering out at the office. "Who are you talking about?" Kurt asked, confused.

"You're talking about Hank, right?" I asked, arching my eyebrow at him. "Yeah. Fucking creeps me out. Rolling around all day in his special little secret chair. I know he's planning something." Bobby replied, explaining it to me like he was paranoid.

I crossed my arms, "I'm not going fire anyone."

"You're not going to fire anyone?" Bobby asked me, getting irritated.

"No. There isn't any reason to, Bobby. Everyone's doing their work. The company needs workers, and your dad wasn't planning on firing anyone anytime soon. And neither should you. There's no point. Just because a woman is pregnant and a man is handicapped doesn't mean you fucking fire them. Seriously." I said, getting annoyed.

"Monika, I'm your fucking boss and you're my assistant. You have to do what I tell you. Old Jack isn't your boss anymore, I am. You're my own personal bitch. So fire the fatty or fire the cripple, okay? And I don't know if you're just PMSing or some shit, but stop being so fucking diffucult about it and just do what I tell you to do, alright?"

"Shut up. You know you can't just fire people like that." I hissed back.

The two of us were two inches from each other, in each others' faces, when Kurt cleared his throat to break up the fight that was brewing.

"Y'know, it's like you don't care about this company at _all_." Kurt said, giving Bobby a sarcastic look of disbelief. Bobby turned his attention to Kurt, giving him a 'are you stupid?' look and getting even more irritated. "No fucking shit I don't care about this company! This is just an ATM to me! You think when I was a kid I dreamed of running a fucking _chemical company_? No! I'm squeezing every bit of profit from this company."

He looked at me with demanding, authoritive eyes, pointing out the window to the main office space. We were still a few inches apart, and I looked up into his brown, paranoid eyes. "So Monika, either you fire the fatty, or fire the cripple. Or I fire all three of you." He looked at Kurt, "Four of you, actually."

"You aren't serious..." I said, but he cut me off.

"Do the math, sweetheart. One loses the job, or four loses it. It's your choice. And it's my first order for you as my new assistant. So if you don't want it to be your last, I suggest you do as I say, and just make up your mind." Bobby snapped, glaring down at me, but he wore a playful smirk on his face.

Fuck the height difference.

"Oh, and tell Professor Xavier to leave his handicapped parking pass as well." Bobby said, sitting back down in his leather office chair with a satisfied, bantering smile, "I'll use it. I need a better parking spot."

Kurt huffed, annoyed, and left Bobby's office in disbelief. Regrettably for me, I had no office or desk to storm into except for Bobby's. Now his office was my office. I stood, looking at him pleadingly.

"Bobby, I can't fire these people. Me and Kurt are friends with them. I've worked with them since I first got here. You know that. I don't have the guts to fire people in positions like that. Be reasonable." I said pleadingly, pushing a strand of blond hair behind my ear. He sat there smugly, giving me a normal Bobby leer. He huffed, irritated.

"But _I_ have the guts to fire you, Monika. You want me to do that?" He asked, playing with his tie and flash me a teasing, small smile.

"You can't fire me. I can barely afford my rent." I said, feeling myself blush that I was begging for my job and money from Bobby Pelitt, insane lunatic cokehead dipshit playboy. He smirked crookedly, "Then I suggest you do the fucking shit I tell you, right?"

"Yeah." I said quietly.  
"So we're clear?" He said, glaring at me.  
"Yeah." I repeated quietly.  
"Sorry, I didn't really hear you. _Are we clear_?" Bobby grinned maniacally.

I got up and stood in the doorway. "Yes. Fuck yourself."  
"Suck my dick, Monika!" Bobby shouted banteringly, which caused the entire office to look up at us wildly.

"You _would_ want that!" I yelled over my shoulder as I exited his office.

* * *

"This sucks. Harkin said he isn't going to promote me! He gave the promotion to himself. To himself! Can you even do that?" Nick was rambling as we sat at our usual seat at our local bar. Dale, Kurt, Nick and I were all beside ourselves with our bosses' behavior. Harkin refused Nick the promotion and totally told him off, Dale was being aggressively sexually harassed by Julia to have sex with her before his wedding to Stacy, and Kurt and I were venting about Bobby's new orders to fire fat and handicapped people, and to pour toxic waste and possibly kill thousands of people.

"Well, Bobby the Prick is going to ruin Pelitt Chemicals. He's just going to fire everybody." Kurt said, sipping on his beer. I nodded in agreement, taking a long sip of my drink, too. I ran a hand down my face exasperadedly.

"Not a good day with the cokehead?" Dale asked, pointing to my watermelon vodka.

"Not really." I sighed, "He threatened to fire me and Kurt if we don't fire everyone. And he's planning to dump the toxic waste in an area with thousands of people. And, he's named me his bitch. He screamed commands at me from across the office all day long today, non-stop. 'Monika get call this person, Monika get me more Jack Daniels, Monika come over here and entertain me, I'm bored.'" I imitated him. "I have to do everything he says or else I'm fired. And I can't afford to lose my job. I really can't. I don't have anywhere else to go. I hate to say it, but without Bobby, I have nothing."

"He treats you like _shit_," Kurt said, "I don't know why you let that douchebag talk like that to you."

"We've hated each other for three years now, Kurt. I yell at him, he yells at me. I insult him, he insults me. It's just the way we are to each other. We can't help it. He's a natural-born douchebag. I don't know if I can convince him to stay with the safe company to get rid of the toxic waste. He's way too stubborn. All he wants is the money."

I felt my cell phone vibrate and I jumped on the wooden barstool that I was sitting on in surprise. Nick, Dale, and Kurt gave me surprised looks, following my eyes down to my cell phone.

I looked down at my cell phone; _1 New Text Message from Bobby Pelitt._

"You guys have each other's numbers?" Kurt asked, laughing, "That _blows_."  
"I need to, jackass." I sighed, "I'm his assistant. He gave me a spare key to his apartment, too."

"Open it." Nick said.

I clicked "open" on my lime green Virgin Sidekick's screen and a message popped up.

**Monika -  
Get me a bottle of Smirnoff before you come into work.  
And do me a fucking favor, be a good girl & pick up my MDMA shit at the pharmacy.  
- Bobby  
**

"He wants you to get him booze and Ecstasy?" Kurt said, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Why am I not surprised?" I said, sending him back a quick reply, slamming my phone shut and shoving in in my skinny jeans' butt pocket.

"You have a spare key to his apartment?" Nick asked.  
"Yeah, in case I have to drop off his work or other shit. Not that he does any." I huffed, draining some vodka from the glass.

Nick was about to say something when we all stared at Dale when he said, "Her breasts were right there in front of me." He was referring to Julia. Crazy, slutty, skank dentist. "I don't see why you guys don't just quit. Well, except for you, Monika. Bobby's your fucking lifesupport for money. But Kurt, Nick. You guys aren't sex offenders, are you? Cause Julia's the only one who will hire me."

"Nah. That would mean going back to school, changing fields." Nick sighed, twirling the drink in his glass. Kurt nodded in agreement. "What the fuck do I care about protecting Pelitt's name when his own son doesn't? I mean, there's gotta be a million jobs out there."

"You aren't leaving me there alone to suffer under the wrath of Ninja Boy and his alcohol-ecstasy adventures." I said, looking a Kurt persuadingly. "I'll bet he's not as bad as Harkin." Nick muttered.

"Have you _ever_ met Bobby Pelitt?" I asked him.

Just before any of us said anything, a booming voice rang out behind us, "Look at this! If it isn't the famous foursome! Kurt, Dale, Monika and Nick!" Kenny Somerfield, our friend from when we were younger, came from behind us and we all welcomed him with 'what's up?' and high-fives. He was always a nice guy, a mutual friend between all of us. "Hey, Kenny!" Kurt and Nick exclaimed, "What are you doin' here? We heard you moved to New York."

"Yep, right out of Yale." Kenny said, a drink in his hand. "What are you guys doin' now?"

"Kurt and I work at a chemical company. He's an accountant and I'm my boss's assistant. Dale's a dental hygenist and Nick's an executive." I explained, pointing to each of us in order. Kenny raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"Really? That's crazy! I've been out of work for the past two years. It's impossible to find a job at all these days! The economy is in the shitter. I can't even get a job waiting tables." Kenny sighed, setting down his drink, "I'd fucking murder the boss that fired me. If I had the chance, I mean. I can't even pay for this fucking drink."

"Oh, we can help you out with it." Kurt said, giving him a sympathetic look. "Like really, do guys think you could help me out here?" Kenny begged, and all of us pulled out our wallets. I really shouldn't be giving money, given that I was tight on it already. I sighed and pulled out a five dollar bill and threw it on the stack that Dale, Kurt and Nick had put on the table.

"Y'know, that's probably not gonna cut it, so..." Kenny looked around to make sure no one was listening, "How about I give you guys some handjobs? And Monika, I could finger-"

"That's alright, Kenny. I have a boyfriend." I lied quickly, disgusted by his desperate and overly sexual talk. All three boys shot me hilarious looks at my lie. "Who's the lucky man?" Kenny joked, and I looked at the boys for a quick response. Kurt grinned his usual malicious grin, and said, "His name's Bobby Pelitt."

I shot Kurt a nasty glare at his joke.

"40 bucks a piece, in the bathroom. Really." Kenny said, jerking both thumbs to the bathrooms in the back of the bar. "No, no. That's okay." The boys all said at once. "I said no more handies in here, Kenny!" The bartender shouted at him. "Oh, shit. I gotta go. Thanks guys!" Kenny said quickly, sprinting out of the bar. All of us looked at each other, dumbfounded.

"Maybe _don't_ quit your job." Dale exclaimed, raising his eyebrows.


	3. Can't Stop

**3**

Later into the night, a little after eleven, we'd all had too much to drink because we were so frustrated. After at least four full glasses of vodka, I was practically leaning on Nick's shoulder drunkly, and I felt exhausted. I swirled a strand of blond hair around my index finger, yawning. Kurt sighed after taking a drink from his beer, "So, I guess we're just gonna be spineless losers who hate their jobs?"

"It's looking that way." Nick said wearily. Kurt stretched his arms behind him and yawned, "I mean, there aren't many options, right? I guess we _have_ to be spineless losers who dream all day of killing their bosses." Nick laughed. "You do that too?" Nick asked Kurt. He nodded, "Of course."

"That's a little sick, Kurt." I said, looking at Kurt and Nick. Dale nodded in agreement, "I'm agreeing with Monika on this one."  
"It's just a way to blow off steam." Kurt assured me. "Yeah, Monika. It's not like we're actually going to kill our bosses." Nick said, slightly tipsy.

"You have to admit," Kurt said smugly, "Our lives would be a hell of a lot easier if our bosses weren't alive." He looked at the three of us mischeviously, "Hypothetically, if we could do it, and none of us could get caught, would you do it?"

"_No_." Dale said, looking at Kurt as if he was crazy.  
"Are you serious? I would." Kurt replied.  
"No you wouldn't." Nick said.

"Yes. I would." Kurt reassured, "It's not murder if it's justified. Justifiable homicide. That's a thing, right? If one evil person has to die for the greater good, than so be it. Right? Bobby Pelitt is an absolute monster. He's a fuckin' jerk. You know, if he has his way, he'll kill thousands of innocent Bolivians. Technically, I think it's immoral for me _not_ to kill him!" Kurt said enthusiastically.

"Kurt," I said, giving him a surprised look that he would say something like that, "That's a _little_ sadistic, even for Bobby."

"Oh, _c'mon_, Monika! You're not going to sit here and lie to my face by telling me your life wouldn't be easier if Bobby Pelitt wasn't in it. With him harassing you and fighting with you all the time. Now that you're his personal assistant, your life revolves around him, right? You have to rely on him for everything. You guys hate each other. He talks down to you all the time and he's the one who controls your entire life. Wouldn't you be relieved if he didn't?"

"I guess." I muttered.

"So I'm going to kill Harkin because he didn't let me say goodbye to Gam Gam?" Nick grumbled.  
"Yes!" Kurt jumped at the chance, "Dale, would your life be easier without Julia in it?"

"Yes, alright?" Dale shrieked, obviously not liking the idea of killing our bosses. "You know what, maybe I'll break into Julia's house and slash her up and put her in a box and send her out to you three. I'm done with this conversation." He pointed to Kurt, "And you're paying for my dinner because you've upset me." He stormed off, imitating us as he walked away. "You know, I was just speaking hypothetically." Kurt said.

"Me too." I huffed, taking a sip of vodka.

* * *

The next night, I was jumping up and down on Kurt's leather couch, blowing off steam, while watching Nick and Kurt playing Wii. I was holding a bottle of watermelon Smirnoff in my clutch, twisting and turning as I jumped up and down. Watching Kurt and Nick play Wii Tennis was hilarious and they always sucked at it, but I loved watching them. I jumped high and low, wearing a tight Yankee's T-shirt and a pair of Kurt's black, baggy old high school sweatpants, my feet bare on the leather.

Relief was needed for me, given the harsh day at work. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn to go to Star Market on the Los Angeles strip, get Bobby his Smirnoff, and had to wait two hours for the pharmacy to open. When the pharmacy opened, I had to wait twenty more minutes to convince the elderly pharmacist that the ecstasy I was getting for Bobby was strictly for medical usage, which was complete bullshit. After that, I parked my car half a mile away from Pelitt & Son, given all the parking spaces were taken. I trudged into work underdressed in a Yankee's t-shirt, short, faded and ripped denium shorts, and tan gladiator sandals, with black ray-bans lazily hitched on the top of my head. My straw-blond hair was messy, and I dumped the bag of Bobby's stuff on his desk.

"Choke on it," I grumbled. Bobby's crooked, smug smile on his face made me want to smack it off. He grabbed his Smirnoff and raised it to me, "Thanks, slave." and took a swig from the clear alcohol bottle. I huffed and left his office, dragging myself over to Kurt's desk.

Bobby _hated_ it when I talked to Kurt, so he'd find shit for me to do.

I dunno why. Kurt and I had a very strong friendship, given that it was probably because he'd taken my virginity freshman year of high school, during a pool party in a cabana. But that was typical for always-horny Kurt. We were friends with benefits, but if you asked us if we would ever date, we would both probably laugh our asses off at you. We were just really good friends, just like Dale and Nick were to us.

I sat on Kurt's desk, discussing some things for Bolivian and how we'd weasel Bobby out of hiring them, when he waltzed up and said, "Monika, stop talking to dickwad and make copies for me. _Now_." He slapped at least four different papers in my hand, and dragged me by my forearm into his office. I looked over my shoulder to Kurt and I shrugged.

I stumbled into Bobby's office. He lazily took a seat in his oversized leather office chair and spun around over and over, drinking his Smirnoff from the bottle while twirling around wildly. He had his cell phone, papers, wallet, and a few beer bottles sprawled out across his desk. He kept spinning in his chair childishly while the bottle was still in his mouth.

I went over to the copying machine in the corner of Bobby's office, slipping in each paper. I looked at him as the copier scanned and printed the first paper. He looked up at me innocently with his wide, paranoid brown eyes, the bottle still in his mouth. "Bobby, you don't think you could've done this yourself? The copier is in _your_ office." I said, "And it's right next to you."

"That's what I fucking have _you_ for," He said, smugly smiling at me, while slamming the Smirnoff bottle down on his desk, standing up and leaning over his desk, "Monika. Be realistic here. I'm a fucking busy guy. I don't have to be making copies and shit. You do that. Not me." He said it to me like I should know it already. He bent down, when I noticed his cocaine on his desk, the small straw in his hand.

He inhaled deeply, snorting a line and looking up at me, his eyes smug and his smile crooked. He sniffed, coughed a little, and ran a hand across his nose. He breathed in, readying himself for another line, when I interuppted, "Snorting cocaine isn't being busy, smart one."

He smirked up at me, "No fucking shit. Did you fire the fatty or the cripple yet?"  
I shifted uncomfortably, "Not yet, Bobby."  
He replied, "I guess _you_aren't busy either. You have two fucking days to fire one of them."

"But..." I began, but he cut me off.  
He snorted another line, and through his cough he snapped, "Monika, grow a pair, stop PMSing and just fucking do it."

I reviewed my day in my head as I continued to jump on Kurt's couch, watching as Nick kicked his ass in Wii Tennis. I put my bottle of watermelon vodka down on the coffee table, laughing as Kurt tried to convince Nick that he had cheated, even though you can't really cheat when you're playing the Wii. I grinned at my two idiot friends, when suddenly there was a slamming of Kurt's apartment door and loud, angry footsteps with a irritated, infuriated and high-pitched shout.

"_Let's kill this bitch_!"

I stopped jumping, clutching onto Nick's shoulder and bringing myself onto the carpeting, standing up. Nick, Kurt and I turned to see an infuriated Dale, who's red face and insane emotion in his eyes signaled trouble at work. All three of us exchanged looks, as Dale waltzed up to the three of us, "That's it! I'm in. Let's kill them! I'm going to kill _her_!"

"What bitch? Dale, what the hell are you _talking_ about?" I said, attempting to slow him down.

"My boss, my boss! Julia! She's gone physco crazy! She tried to fuck me on top of Stacy today! She took all these photos of me having sex with her while I was unconscious! She raped me!" Dale yelled in a ramble, freaking out, practically tearing his hair out, "I'm in, guys. Let's kill her. I mean it. Let's do it! Seriously!"

Nick dismissed Dale, "No, we were drinking last night. You yourself said that killing is wrong."

"Yeah, but that was before Julia tried to fuck me on top of Stacy's unconscious body!" Dale urged. "These photographs will ruin my life. She said that if I don't fuck her before the wedding, she'll tell Stacy I had sex with her! Look, are you guys in, or are you out?"

Kurt's face lit up, "I was in last night! Nick, Monika! Let's say we do this?"

"No," Nick said, shutting off the TV.  
"What about your grandma, Boobie?" Kurt proposed.  
"_Gam Gam_," Nick corrected.

"Whatever it is! She didn't get to say goodbye to her favorite grandson! Why? Because his dickbag of a boss didn't let him leave! Right? What would Gam Gam want you to do?" Kurt said, attempting to persuade the ever-innocent, levelheaded Nick into committing murder.

"Okay, forget about Gam Gam. She's gone, you gotta accept it." Kurt said quickly, and I slapped him in the stomach playfully for his snippy remark. We followed Nick into the kitchen and Kurt asked, "Okay, what about you, Nick? What do you want?"

Nick pulled a beer out of the refridgerator, "Obviously, I want him gone."  
"Exactly!" Dale and Kurt said in unison.  
Kurt was excited, "So let's do this!"  
He looked at me, "What about you, Monika? You're in, right?

My three idiot friends looked at me expectantly. Kill Bobby Pelitt? That seemed a little brutal and harsh. But he did make my life harder than it needed to be. And he knew how annoyed I got with him. Yet he continued to boss me around, talk down to me, make me do his chores and work, while he went off snorting and drinking.

"Fine." I grumbled.

"I thought about how we can get away with it," Dale proposed, "So you guys know how me and Stacy watch a ton of Law and Order, right? And guys on the show leave behind traces, right? Skin cells, bullet casings, sperm. The point is, we aren't qualified. We gotta hire a professional."

"Are you talking about a _hitman_?" I asked Dale, an eyebrow arched.  
"That's badass." Kurt smiled.

"How are _you_ going to hire a hitman?" Nick asked Dale.  
Dale gave a mischevious smirk, "Call me tomorrow. I'll tell you where to meet me."  
I looked at him funny, "Why don't you just tell us now...?"  
"...Cause I don't have it figured out..." Dale said slowly, processing the thought in his mind.

Nick, Kurt and I rolled our eyes.  
We were going to kill our bosses.

* * *

"Where you followed?"

"No. Why would I be followed?"

"People get followed in these situations."

"I wasn't followed."

"Just look around you."

"Dale, let Nick in before I come over there and strangle you." I said jokingly.

Kurt, Dale, Nick and I were waiting in a motel room in some seedy motel in Los Angeles. I laid on my stomach on the bed while Kurt sat with a laptop on his lap next to me. Dale let Nick in, and all of us sat on the bed. Nick looked around and asked, "What is this? What are we doing here?"

"I don't want an assassin in my apartment," Kurt shrugged, and I nodded in agreement. "Hold on a second. You guys already went ahead and found someone? Are you insane? And he's meeting us here?" Nick asked, shocked.

"Dale hired him." Kurt remarked, lying on his stomach next to me.

"Yeah! And it was pretty easy to find him," Dale said proudly, "I mean, you don't write 'hitman', 'cause that's dumb. They use codewords, like wetwork and liquidation. But it says fast and discreet, no children or political figures, so it must be pretty intense."

"I don't know if I really want to do this. Kill Bobby? That's a little insane." I said quietly.

"Don't back out now, Monika! Have you ever seen _Kill Bill_?" Kurt asked.

"Obviously."

"Pretend your Uma Thurman. Instead of _Kill Bill_, it can be _Kill Bobby_."

"You're hilarious, Kurt. Fucking _hilarious_." I said sarcastically.

"Focus, guys!" Dale reminded us.

"What's wetwork?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows, leaning my head on Kurt's back so I could look at Dale.

I was seriously thinking differently about killing Bobby.

He was about to answer when we heard the beeping of a car lock. "That must be him," I said, and Kurt and Dale jumped up like little schoolgirls, pushing the curtains back and looking out the window. Nick and I shrugged, waltzing over to wear the two other idiots were looking. I peered outside, seeing a tall man, maybe mid-thirties, dressed in a suit. He had black sunglasses, black hair and carried a steel briefcase in his clutch. I arched my eyebrows, surprised that Dale could get someone legit.

"He looks like James Bond!" Kurt exclaimed.  
"Maybe he has one of those guns that screws together!" Dale squeaked, "Those are the coolest guns they make!"

"You guys sound like a bunch of giddy girls," I remarked, grinning, "Calm down. It's an _assassin._ Not Justin Beiber."

"What if that's an undercover cop?" Nick asked rationally. "Or what if it's the real thing, and he charges way too much, and we can't afford it, and he kills _us_?" Nick was freaking out, and I laughed at his little freakout.

"What? Can that happen?"  
"Is that a real thing?"

Kurt and Dale were suddenly serious and freaking out. I rolled my eyes, and there was nothing else more we could do, seeing as there was a sudden knock at the door. Kurt asked how his hair was, had a hissy fit of excitement with Dale, breathed in, and opened up the door, inviting the man inside. He was very official looking, with a serious expression on his face.

"I see that all three of you will be participating; but I was not notified that a female would be involved." The man said, in his speech indicated a Welsh accent. He looked at me suspiciously, eyeing me up and down awkwardly. I looked at Dale in confusion. Dale cleared his throat nervously, "Why? Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, no. It's just...rare." The man added, unbuckling his suitcase. I ignored the weird comment and the man said, "Before we start, I need to know that there are no secret or hidden recording devices, because I will find out if there are." The boys responded no. I was so confused what this guy's deal was. He nodded and brought out a big, black tarp and laid it on the motel room floor. Dale, Kurt, Nick and I suddenly all started freaking out and talking at once, instantly thinking he was going to shoot us.

"What is that?" I asked.  
"Wouldn't want to leave a stain, now would we?" He responded.  
Dale and Kurt began freaking out, "We don't want you to kill us!"

"What are you talking about?" The man asked, looking at us, confused. "Your add says you do wetwork!" Dale exclaimed.

"That's correct. I urinate on other men for money. In this case, men and a woman." The wetwork man said, "Why else do you think my ad was in the 'men seeking men' section?"

My jaw dropped. Instantly, Nick, Kurt and I were shitting on Dale and freaking out at him. "You fucking idiot!" Kurt spat, "Why would you go in 'men seeking men'?" Nick was rambling to Dale, too. I stepped in.

"Dale, I often wonder what the hell is going on in that grape-sized head of yours." I hissed.

"WE ARE MEN - AND WOMAN - SEEKING A MAN." Dale raised his voice, which meant his already-high, raspy voice was much higher.

"You're telling me that I drove all this way and _nobody_ wants to get pissed on?" The wetwork man asked, adjusting his tie. Kurt, Dale, Nick and I looked at him apologetically, "Sorry about that..."

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I stored quite a large amount of pee for this." The wetwork man said, his face serious. It was so random and awkward, I felt like bursting out laughing, but I decided against it. "I still want my two hundred dollars for this." He said, heading to the bathroom. Kurt, Nick and I glared at Dale.

"I thought it was a good idea." Dale chirped, shrugging. "You dipshit." Kurt huffed. A splashing of pee was heard from the bathroom. Nick stuck out his tongue, disgusted. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You hear that? That could've been all over us." I chimed in, jerking my thumb backwards to the bathroom.


	4. Hot N Cold

**4**

We jumped into Kurt's car and sped of into the city night of Los Angeles, as the four of us went back and forth, banteringly arguing over who's fault hiring the wetwork man was. I sat in the passenger seat, Dale and Nick in the backseat, and Kurt drove. "It was an honest mistake!" Dale squeaked, "Kurt, you think _you_ can find a better murderer?"

"At least he can find a murderer that won't _pee_ on us." I muttered, erupting laughs from everyone except Dale, who turned a hue of dark red at my sneaky comment.

"Yeah! Actually - you know what? Yeah!" Kurt challenged Dale, pressing the touch screen of his GPS, pressing a button that said _NapGuide_. An Indian accent filled the car, "Hello, Mr. Buckman. My name is Gregory. How may I be of service to you this evening?"

"Hi Gregory. Me and my buddies are looking for the most dangerous bars in Los Angeles. Do you think you could help us out here?" Kurt requested, and I shot him a 'are you insane?' glare. He smirked at me in response.

"I'm sorry?" Gregory asked, the voice from the GPS sounding a little bit surprised.

"Y'know, a bar with criminals, convicts. Shitbags?" Kurt asked, and Nick, Dale and I swatted him on the shoulder in disapproval. "Turn this car around right _now_." Nick said firmly, Dale and I snickering.

"Our listing aren't organized by danger, sir..." Gregory said wearily, "But I could direct you to the most highly carjacked neighborhood in Los Angeles."

"I think that'll work!" Kurt exclaimed. Nick, Dale and I all spoke at once, freaking out at Kurt. "You may wish to lock your doors." Gregory requested, as we sped off to the nearest troublemaker bar.

"This is your worst idea yet," Nick snapped, "I'd rather get peed on!"

"I wouldn't go _that_ far." I stuck my tongue out in disgust, "Did you hear that wetwork guy's flow, Nick? He must've drank at least four tons of Gatorade before he came to the motel."

"Monika, that's fucking _gross_." Dale cackled. "Point proven!" I replied triumphantly. "Oh, uh...this is a bad part of town." Dale chirped, looking out the windows into the night of Los Angeles.

In a few minutes, we pulled up to a vandalized bar with neons signs in and around it, rickety stairs to the left of the door, and a few dozen cars in the parking lot. I glared at Kurt, who smirked up at the car, "Are you seriously going to walk up to a random stranger and ask if they're a hitman, willing to kill three people they don't even know?"

Kurt smiled smugly, "Obviously!"

* * *

Dale, Nick, Kurt and I walked into the bar. It had strobe lights, pool tables, dark, seedy booths in the corner, and dim lighting. I was the only female in sight, so I practically glued myself to the cluster of my three idiot friends, not that they offered much manliness or protection. Kurt and Dale walked in with big, nit-wit smirks on their faces. Nick glared at Kurt, "What are you gonna do? Shout out 'does anyone here kill people for money'?"

Kurt scrunched his eyebrows, "No! Watch me."

Dale, Nick and I followed Kurt as he made his way through the bar, saying things to huge thugs, like 'sweet muscles', or 'hola'. I rolled my eyes at his idiocy, knowing he was trying way too hard to look like he fit in with this bar, when he clearly didn't, seeing as he was bearing blue jeans, a plaid shirt and a dumb smile on his face. He waltzed up to the bartender, who gave him a friendly smile. "What can I get you?"

"I was just wondering...does anyone here kill for money?" Kurt asked bluntly, curiously looking at the bartender, who shot him a death glare, giving Kurt an insane look for asking a question like that.

I bit my lip, me and Dale looking away together with eye rolls and nervous expressions, with looks that screamed, 'we don't know that idiot'. Nick glared at him, "_Kurt_!"

"What'd you ask me?" The bartender snapped.

"I just believe society discriminates," Kurt said cheerfully, unaware that the bartender was clearly infuriated with him. The bartender growled, "What are you saying about black people?"

"I'm gonna be in the car!" Nick said quickly, making a sprint for the door of the bar as soon as he saw the bartender reach for the baseball bat from underneath the bar table and raise it to the four of us.

"I'm sorry, he's an idiot." I attempted to explain to the bartender, but he had his sights set on bashing Kurt's idiot face in. Kurt suddenly realized that the bartender was infuriated, and he replied, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. My heart was in the right place."

"In about five seconds, your heart is going to be in the _wrong_ place." The bartender corrected, and I yanked Kurt away, "We're leaving, we're leaving." I reassured, making a quick exit with Dale.

Nick stood outside, his hip practically attached to Kurt's car in anxiety, as the three of us scrambled out of the bar. "Don't say anything, I know." Kurt sighed, not ready to take Nick's typical 'I told you so' moments.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are an incompetent idiot?" I asked sarcastically, giving Kurt a questioning look. He grinned, "Yeah, that time we fucked in the cabana freshman year, you called me that! But I think you're confusing me with Bobby when you call me that."

I glared at him. "Hit the button, Kurt!" Nick snapped, "Open the car."

Kurt fumbled with his keys, when from behind the four of us swirled around when we heard, "Hey, I think I can help you guys." We looked and saw a man with tattoos covering his head, black sunglasses, and a secretive expression on his face. The four of us looked at each other, confused. "Come on." He said, gesturing to underneath the stairs to the left of the bar. Without a second thought, Kurt, Dale and I followed him. Nick tried to blow him off, but he gave up and followed us.

The four of us scurried underneath the stairs, me being squished between Dale and Kurt. Nick joined us wearily, and the secretive man began speaking, "I overheard you guys. You want some business done?"

"Yeah. You do business?" Kurt asked, attempting to be smooth and act like he knew what he was talking about. The man looked around suspiciously, making sure no one was listening, and nodded.

"Motherfucker Jones." He introduced himself, staring at the four of us. There was about a thirty second silence, until Dale asked awkwardly, "Your name is _Motherfucker_?"

I jabbed him in the ribcage, not wanting to piss this guy off. He was tough looking, his eyes clearly showing he didn't like bullshit and goofing off. He looked strict and professional. "You got a problem with that?" Motherfucker Jones hissed, and Dale shrugged, "No, no. Is it on your birth cirtificate?"

I elbowed him again. Motherfucker Jones looked away, "My real name's Dean."

"Dean Jones...isn't that the guy from _Herby and the Lovebug_?" I asked, looking at Nick and Kurt for a response. Kurt shook his head at me in denial, "He's not gonna know who that is." Motherfucker glared at him.

"I know who he is, bitch! You think I wanna walk around here with that fucking Disney-ass name?" Motherfucker snapped, glaring at Kurt.

My cell phone's ringtone of _Cocaine _by Eric Clapton blared from my skinny jeans' butt pocket, vibrating and going insane. I gasped and grabbed it out of my jeans, fumbling to open it.

"Why the fuck is your ringtone _Cocaine_?" Kurt asked, Dale and Nick snickering, while Motherfucker gave me a weirded out look.

I huffed in annoyance, "Bobby changed it yesterday, he was screwing around with my phone's settings...speaking of which, it's him." I looked at Motherfucker, "I'm sorry, I'll be right back."

I blushed and walked a few steps away from underneath the rickety staircase in the warm, summer Los Angeles night. I glared at my phone as the name _Bobby Pelitt _lit up my Virgin Sidekick's screen.

"Yeah?" I asked, a little annoyed, "What is it?"

"Yo, my slavegirl. Can you drop off some fucking Jack Daniels or Burbon at my apartment?" Bobby asked over the phone, and I heard girls giggling and talking in the background. No doubt, his apartment was crowded with hookers, snorting cocaine and drinking alcohol, partying. Bobby was probably hosting one of his insane prositute raves.

"Bobby, it's almost midnight. I'm kind of busy, y'know, attempting to sleep so I can regain my energy to tend to your every need at work tomorrow?" I replied, sarcasm hinting when I spoke, "And can you tell the hookers you're straddling to shut the fuck up? I can barely hear you."

"_Fine_." Bobby huffed, and I could tell by his voice he was rolling his eyes. "I want that shit first thing on my desk tomorrow, Monika. Alright?"

"You talk like I'm supposed to give you _actual_ work." I felt myself smile, to my surprise.

"Nah, just my whiskey." He said jokingly, and to my surprise he didn't add any profanities to his sentance, which he always did. It was hard to catch Bobby saying a sentance that didn't have a profanity in it. Over the reciever, I heard a few more girls giggling, some loud snorting, and one say with an ultra-slutty voice, "_Bobby_! Come back to bed."

"I guess I'll let you tend to them, then." I said, biting my tongue. "Night, Bobby."

He sighed in response, "I guess I should. 'Night."  
I was about to hang up when he stopped me, "Oh, and Monika?"  
"Yeah?" I asked.  
"See you tomorrow."

The reciever line clicked and I shut my Virgin Sidekick, shuffling it back into the butt pocket of my skinny jeans. For some really weird reason, I felt a twinge of jealously and annoyance at the girls on the other line. I loathed Bobby, yet I felt jealous that a few bimbos were fucking him? I mentally slapped myself, attempting to snap myself out of it. But the ping of jealousy refused to leave, sitting in the back of my mind as I waltzed up to the three idiots and Motherfucker Jones.

"So we have three bosses...who maybe wouldn't really be fit to be our bosses, so we wanted to have them, uh..." Nick was explaining, but Dale interruppted slowly, "We...want...them..._killed_." Motherfucker Jones gave Dale a 'what the fuck?' look.

"Who the fuck was that on your cell?" Nick asked, while I stepped in between Kurt and Dale, who looked at me questioningly.

"Bobby. He wanted me to run a few errands, but I told him I was busy." I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. I was struck with this feeling of massive guilt. Bobby didn't know that the reason I was 'busy' was because I was arranging his murder at a bar in downtown Los Angeles.

"She was on the phone with one of the guys we want killed." Kurt explained. I glanced at him, arching an eyebrow in annoyance, but said nothing.

"You got the cheese?" Motherfucker asked, referring to money.

"We got the cheese." Kurt said smoothly, again attempting to be badass, "How much cheese you thinkin'?"

"I'm thinkin' thirty large." Motherfucker replied.

"Here's an idea. If we kill two, can we get the third one, hold the cheese?" Dale asked, and I rolled my eyes, stifling a laugh at his random and idiotic response.

"No negotiations. 30 large, or nothing." He snapped.

"I don't have that kind of money." I pointed out, secretly hoping to easily get out of this murder plot.

"I'll cover you, Monika. Motherfucker, we're _in_." Kurt urged excitedly, and Nick, Dale and I nodded in agreement. I still felt jealous and really guilty, but I refused to say anything against it. I was mad at myself for being jealous of a few hookers who were fucking Bobby Pelitt. Why was I jealous? Why did I feel guilty?

"But it would be awful if it was traced back to us..." Nick said persaudingly. Motherfucker shrugged, "I don't even know your names!"

"Oh, this is Monika, that's Dale..." Kurt pointed to each of us, and Dale and I squealed in unison, "Don't fucking tell him, dipshit!"

"Listen! Bring the money here tomorrow, alright?" Motherfucker ordered. Kurt, Dale and Nick looked at him, confused, while I thought about me and Bobby's phone conversation. He didn't seem to be as douche-baggy as he normally was. Since when?

"Do you want the cash in something particular? Like a garbage bag, suitcase, dufflebag?" Kurt asked. "Just bring the fucking money." Motherfucker said, sliding on his sunglasses, "See you guys tomorrow." We walked back to Kurt's car, and I huffed.

Another step closer to killing Bobby Pelitt.

* * *

I attempted to look reasonably attractive for work the next morning, given I'd been coming into work almost every day this week wearing a Santa Monica High School shirt and ripped shorts. I wore a just above the knee dress, which was blue starting from the ribcage down, and grey for the breast region, which was seperated with a brown braided belt, the grey region with a wide scoopneck. My sleeves were short and my blond hair fell just below my breasts. I wore white flip flops, and I was actually happy walking into Pelitt & Son, the first time since Jack was alive.

I carried my bag over my shoulder and Bobby's alcoholic necessties in my clutch as I walked to Kurt's desk. I looked at the clock, and it read 11:45. The shades in Bobby's office were down, and loud music was thumping from it. Marge, Kurt, and the rest of the staff all looked at the seperate office of Bobby's, extremely irritated.

"Where the fuck is Bobby?" I asked openly to the whole office.

Everyone looked up at me, not wanting to annoy the new boss or his assistant. Me and Kurt were well-liked and well known around the office, yet everyone was afraid to tell me where the cokehead was. I rolled my eyes, "Seriously, guys. Where is Bobby?"

"His office, in a rave." Kurt said, rolling his eyes, "Tell him to turn it down, Monika. Some of us are attempting to work." Kurt and I swapped secretive looks.

"He's out of line." Marge said quietly.  
"You gotta reel him in, Monika." Another employee chirped, "He'll ruin the company."

"You say that like he isn't doing that already," I muttered, rolling my eyes while throwing my bag next to Kurt's desk. I stormed to his office, knocking on the door, "_Bobby_! Open the fucking door."

I huffed, knowing I was too young, too naive, and too insane to be this maniac's assistant. I turned the doorknob and walked in, slamming the door behind me.

Strobe lights twirled around the room, the furniture askew. Rave music was thumping. Wine glasses, alcohol bottles, and shot glasses were strewn across the floor. The lights were dimmed, and around four to five scantily dressed prostitutes and strippers were on or around Bobby, who looked like he was having the time of his life, sitting at a table on the left side of his office. Beer bottles, wine glasses, and cocaine was sprawled out in front of him, a girl lying near him with a line of it on her stomach.

"Bobby, what the _hell_?" I said, shutting off the music and throwing my hands up in annoyance. Bobby looked up with his paranoid brown eyes, alarmed, as he set down the prostitute he was holding by the torso, allowing her to slump down next to her friends, who gathered around him like he was their pimp.

That odd feeling of jealousy ignited in my veins again, except it was stronger than last night, and I was _irritated_.

"Monika! _Shit_." He yelped.

I glared at him, and he smirked innocently at me, sniffing nervously, no doubtfully from the line he'd snorted a few minutes prior to me storming in his office.

"Who's _she_?" One of the hookers asked, her accent thick of what I suspected to be a Thai accent. The hookers all looked at me like I was an insane threat, and the dagger looks I recieved only added to the infuriation. "Yeah, Bobby. Who's _she_?" A few of them asked him, looking at me like I was a bug. I glared back at them.

"_She _is kicking you out of the office, because _she _doesn't want her boss to get AIDS, Chlamydia, or Herpes. You have five seconds to pick up your whiskey, panties and other _shit_, before I call security." I snapped.

I was surprised by myself, not even knowing why I snapped at them that way. I loved to party myself, given I practically almost always got wasted on the weekends with Kurt, Dale and Nick; something in me snapped, that jealousy throbbing in me.

"_Bobby_." The girls drew out their pleas to let them stay in a skanky voice. They obviously wanted his money, no doubt, and I rolled my eyes. Bobby was about to intervine when I snapped, "_Five, four, three_..."

The hookers rolled their eyes and climbed off him; they quickly gathered their panties, mini-skirts, bras and other clothing that was sprawled across Bobby's office, grabbing their bottles of whiskey. They all smirked and winked at him. The passed by me and shot me death glares, and I waited as they all piled out of Pelitt & Son, all of my co-workers looking in shock and surprise as hookers piled out of their boss's office.

"Really gentleman-like." I scoffed, glaring at a shirtless Bobby.

I spun around and stormed out of his office. He huffed and grabbed his shirt off a lampshade, attempting to catch up with me, "Fuck, Monika. Wait a fucking second!"

The two of us stormed through the office, between the desks, the employees all looking at Bobby oddly for not having a shirt on. He messily adjusted his shirt, the top two buttons undone and his hair sexed up.

I huffed and looked at him, "I come in, bringing in your shit. And you're running a whorehouse in your office?"  
I was surprised that I cared at all, but that weird twinge of jealousy was randomly causing me to snap at him.

"No fucking shit. Look, it's not that big of a deal." He said, glaring down at me, "We were just having a good fucking time, Monika. Calm down. You PMS too much."

I glared back up at him, "Whatever you say, Bobby."

Kurt and I made eye contact from across the office, and I gave him a false look that I wanted to go through with it, tohave Bobby killed. Kurt nodded, excited. I was lying to my best friends, I was lying to myself.

Now I was definately not ready to kill him. I think I was starting to have feelings for him. Feelings for a dipshit cokehead who loves martial arts and hookers.

Lovely.

**Review? :D**


	5. Hot Mess

**5**

I sat, squished in between Kurt and Dale, as the four of us squished into a booth in a seedy bar. Motherfucker Jones sat across from us, suspiciously eyeing us as Kurt pushed forward a briefcase. He popped it open, revealing a single wad of a large sum of money. I looked at Kurt, seeing as a briefcase wasn't needed at all, and we just looked stupid by putting a single wad of cash in a giant briefcase.

"I still dunno if I like this." I mumbled to Kurt, and he grinned manically at me, "_Kill Bill. _I mean, _Kill Bobby. _Remember, Monika?"

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, by Nick interrupted the insult I was about to hurl at Kurt, "So, how long do you think that this _assignment_ will take to complete, Motherfucker?"

Motherfucker took a drink from his glass, and huffed, "I recently just got out of doing a dime..."

"That's ten years." Kurt informed us smartly. I rolled my eyes at him. "I did some time for some nasty shit. I'm on probation, and if I step outta line..." Motherfucker continued, and he looked up at the four of us.

"What was that?" Nick questioned.

"I thought you said you were going to take care of this?" Kurt asked worriedly.

Motherfucker gestured for us to come closer. THe four of us leaned forward in unison, and Motherfucker said quietly, "I'm gonna be your murder consultant."

I arched my eyebrow, clueless to what this guy was talking about. "I'm sorry, but no. What is this? We asked you kill them for us." Dale squeaked.

"One of you shut this fucking hampster up?" Motherfucker snapped, pointing at Dale accusingly. Our eyes widened. All we needed was to get this guy angry and have him kill us. I jabbed Dale hard in the ribcage, "Shut up, little hampster."

"I'm a _hampster_ now? C'mon!" Dale muttered, and Kurt and Nick subtly told him to shut his trap. Kurt looked discourangingly at Motherfucker, "Look, if you can't do it, then give us our money back."

Motherfucker put the briefcase next to him and muttered, "Why don't you go fuck yourself?" Nick looked irriated, "If you seriously think we're going to sit here and let you walk away with our money, you must be crazy. That's thirty thousand dollars!"

Motherfucker shot the four of us a death glare and reached inside his leather jacket's inner pocket, and the four of us freaked and backed up, putting our hands up. "Please, let's not shoot us. Let's just talk it out." Dale pleaded.

"I told you guys I didn't have a good feeling about this." I mumbled, crossing my arms our my chest. Kurt, Dale, and Nick shot me 'shut up' looks.

"Look, if you guys don't wanna take my advice, you can get the fuck outta here." Motherfucker shrugged, taking a slurp from his whiskey. "Just listen to him." Kurt assured us.

"Most killers are beginners. If you wanna pull off a brilliant murder, you gotta make it look like it was an accident. Car breaks, gas leaks. Suicide. If you pull it off perfectly, you don't even have to be there when it happens." Motherfucker explained.

The four of us mumbled things to each other about the new idea, and Nick wouldn't have it. "That sounds like Scooby Doo! How do we fake _three_ accidents?"

"You gotta be smart!" Motherfucker exclaimed, "Where do they live? What are their habits? What are their hobbies? What they like, what type of foods do they like? Find out who they fuckin'. What makes them vunerable?"

"Word." Kurt replied smoothly. Dale, Nick and I rolled our eyes at him.

_Who are they fucking? _I thought to myself, _Prostitutes that are only after his money. Whorebags. _

I mentally slapped myself again. No matter what, that annoying twitch of jealousy always lingered in my mind. I _actually_ had a crush of Bobby. The dim-wit, cocaine addled, spoiled playboy. When did this happen?

Dale shook his head, "I have a job. I'm way to busy!" After that comment, the four of us began to mumble about how busy we already were in unison, all speaking at the same time. Motherfucker shook his head, "Listen. You can pull this off perfectly. The po-po is gonna be after you if you don't."

"That means police." Kurt explained, as if we didn't know. I smacked his arm jokingly, "I _know_, numbnuts."

"Why don't you kill each others' bosses?" Motherfucker asked, and the four of us were actually quiet for a second. Kurt already looked pumped up for the idea, as did Dale. Nick was considering it, and I sat there, not wanting to do this at all.

"That's actually not a bad idea," Kurt exclaimed, "Yeah. That's like Alfred Hitchcock's _Strangers on a Train_. So if we kill each others' bosses, there's no link to us!"

"Exactly." Motherfucker half-smiled, "Now get out."

* * *

I stood at the fax machine in Pelitt & Son, wearily accepting a fax from Bolivian Waste Managment. I attempted to warn Bobby about it yet again, but he wouldn't listen. This was dangerous and cruel to be making an offer with them, and I told him that we should've made a deal with Enviortech Waste. Not this company, which could endanger thousands of innocent lives.

I blew a strand of blond hair out of my eyes, which had bags under them from the late night with the three idiots and Motherfucker the night before. The strap of my magenta, brown and yellow casual dress slumped on my shoulder blade, and I lazily pulled it back up. These late nights planning the murders of Harkin, Julia, and Bobby were taking a toll on me, and by the minute I was feeling even more guilty.

And to add to my guilt, stress of killing Bobby, and my exhaustion, I saw on my door late last night that I was evicted from my apartment for not paying the last two month's rent, and I had a week to get out.

Awesome.

I ran a hand down my face tiredly. It was only two o'clock, and I was running out of steam. So far today I'd had to go to the liqour store, pharmacy, and I'd had to book at least seven different appointments for Bobby. He was busy goofing off in his office, blaring _Everybody Was Kung Foo Fighting _so loud that everyone in the office could hear it, looking up wildly and infuriated. As it played he twirled in his office chair like he was a toddler, downing a bottle of Skyy vodka, his cocaine sprawled out of his desk.

I recieved three calls for him from a few of his hooker girls, or whatever they were to him. I'd said he was too busy all three times as he acted like a idiot in his office, and that he'd call them back. Bullshit, like I'd actually have him call _those_ sluts back.

Ugh, jealousy sucks.

"Monika." Bobby waltzed up, smugly looking at me, "The faxes in yet?"

I didn't look up at him, "I'm accepting them now, Bobby. Okay?" When I spoke I really sounded irritated with him, and he picked it up right away. I didn't intentionally mean to sound like a bitch, but I was still ticked at him for having the prostitute rave in his office yesterday.

"Whoa, calm the fuck down," Bobby snapped, putting his hands up in defense, "What's up with you?"

"_Nothing_." I mumbled, pulling out the faxes and leaving the fax machine, walking to his office to put them on his desk, with Bobby following me as I put the fax on his desk, then exited to the main office area. A few people looked up at the two of us. A few people in the office were looking like they were thinking I was just as insane as he was.

"Monika, you're not seriously still pissed at me for yesterday?" He asked, looking at me like I was insane.

I glanced up at him, "It was pretty fucking gross, Bobby. I'd rather not start my morning by seeing you having an insane, alcohol-induced rave orgy with a bunch of whores, okay? God."

He huffed and rolled his eyes, "I was fucking bored. It's not like I seriously wanna fuck them again. They're hookers. They don't mean shit to me."

"Douchebag. You're a vicious little freak," I laughed a little, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"_You_ tell me that everyday. A little fucking more than I'd like to hear, but whatever." Bobby shrugged, giving me that obnoxious, smug smirk. "So are you still pissed at me?"

"No. But seriously, if I see another skank walking around here, I'll flip a shit." I said, glaring at him. His smug smile grew more obnoxious, "Then why aren't you flipping a shit _now_?"

I arched an eyebrow at him, confused. He looked at me knowingly, at when I realized he was jokingly talking about me, I rolled my eyes. My Sidekick began blaring _Cocaine _again.

The name _Kurt Buckman _lit up the screen, along with a picture ID of a drunken Kurt with a Jack Daniels bottle, half his eye open, a picture I'd taken at a party and blackmailed him with.

I broke out in a smile from Bobby's skank comment, "Suck a dick, Bobby."

"I thought you were gonna suck _mine_?" He asked while he walked away, retreating back to his office with that obnoxious smile on his face, referring to the joke he cracked to me the other day.

"You would want that!" I replied, referencing my response from two days earlier. The employees kept working, a few of them looking up at us, annoyed or impatient.

_Why the fuck do we have to kill Bobby? Okay, he's a douchebag and a party boy. And a cocaine lover, and a hyperactive idiot. But none of those reasons are reasons to kill him._

I looked apologetically at them and snapped my phone open. "Hey Kurt." I said into the reciever, "What's up?" I knew he had the day off today, but I didn't know where he was. I heard Dale and Nick talking in the background, so I knew they were up to something manical.

"Monika, you ready to go? We're waiting outside Pelitt & Son." Kurt replied.

My jaw dropped, realizing we were doing stake-outs at each bosses' houses tonight. I really, really didn't want to do this. But I agreed and sighed, "Yeah, let me tell Bobby I'm leaving. Be out in a sec."

I snapped my phone shut, inhaling deeply to regain energy and tell myself to just go through with this. I walked to Bobby's office, where he sat. He was about to do a line, when I interrupted, "Uh, Bobby...I need to leave early today. Like, right now."

He arched an eyebrow at me questioningly, "Why the hell are _you_ leaving early?"

_Shit, shit, shit. Why am I leaving early?_

"I...I have a a doctor's appointment?" I said, making it sound like a question rather than a statement. He looked at me suspiciously, "Alright, fine. I'm leaving in an half hour anyway. Can you drop off that appointment detail shit at my apartment tonight, though?"

I nodded, "Uh, yeah." I reached into my pocket and showed him his apartment key copy that he gave me, so he knew that I'd be able to get in.

"Okay, Monika." He still looked suspicious, "See you tonight, then."

He smirked at me, ready to snort his line. I rolled my eyes and let a smile break on my lips, "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

"I can't believe we're actually doing this." I grumbled, sitting in the backseat of Kurt's car with Dale as we rolled down the street Bobby lived on. Kurt looked at me in the rearview mirror, "_Kill Bobby_!"

I glared at him, "_Kill Kurt _sounds better."

"Hey, hey, hey! Boys and girls! We are here to kill the cokehead, not each other." Dale attempted to calm the two of us down. I rolled my eyes and bit my lip, not wanting to be here at all. Kurt pulled the car up to the sidewalk across from Bobby's apartment, which was quiet and looked like no one was home.

"Is he home? Monika, you just saw him at the office, right? Are we alright to go in?" Nick asked me. I shook my head no. "I'm not chancing it. We left the office about forty minutes ago, 'cause we had to pick up you and Dale. He said he'd be home half an hour ago. He's probably inside."

"Snorting cocaine." Kurt mumbled, finishing my sentance. I kicked the back of his seat, "Don't be a douchebag."

"Alright, all we have to do is wait for Pelitt to make a move. Then we're in!" Kurt exclaimed. "It is _on_ like Donkey Kong!"

"You guys have to remind me why I'm best friends with such weenies." I smiled.

"Cause you love us, Monika! I'm so fucking pumped!" Dale squeaked.  
"I know, me too!" Nick said excitedly.

* * *

"Oh My God, this _sucks_."

Kurt, Nick, Dale and had been waiting in the car for six hours. It was eight o'clock, and we sat there in the car. Nick and Kurt were eating in the frontseat, while I laid my head down on Dale's lap with my feet pressed against the windows in the backseat. I was hot, exhausted, and impatient.

"Do we even know if this guy's even home?" Nick asked.

Kurt looked at the four of us mischeviously for a minute, then he unbuckled himself and clicked open the car door, the rest of us following him in unison. "Doesn't hurt to check if he's home."

"Monika, do you have the spare key to his apartment?" Nick asked, and I shook my head and lied, "Nah, I left it at my apartment."

"You're telling me that you left the key to the apartment of the man we're trying to kill in your own apartment?" Nick asked slowly. I nodded, "Oops."

"Doesn't matter. We'll find another way in." Kurt said optimistically. "Let's check and ring the door bell, see if anyone answers." Kurt and Dale made for the door, heading towards the garage. I followed them.

"No, let's go to the window, right here." Nick disagreed. Dale shook his head as the three of us stood in front of the garage, "Man, I haven't seen one movement in this house at all tonight! Chances are, he isn't even home!"

The massive garage door suddenly began opening. The four of us freaked out and ran to the stone wall next to the other garage door, Nick and Dale hurling each other over the wall onto the grass, while I hid in the corner of the wall and Kurt shielded me.

Bobby's orange Ferrari Enzo revved the engine and tumbled out of the garage, a Van Halen song blaring from the speakers so loud that you could hear it outside the car. He pulled the car out and sped down the street, out of sight.

_I hope he's not out with some whore. _

I mentally slapped myself again, but it was no use. I officially had feelings for Bobby, the maniac cokehead playboy that was my boss.

Kurt looked at the garage as it was beginning to close, "The garage! Go, go!" Kurt, Nick and I scurried and scrambled underneath the garage door, smoothly slipping under it and gaining access to the inside of Bobby's house.

Dale attempted to make it, but slammed his body into the door. We heard him mutter a few profanities and Nick, Kurt and I burst out laughing when he said, "Guys! I didn't make it in!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" I laughed as Kurt opened the garage for him. Dale smirked and stuck his tongue out at me. I turned to follow the guys up the stairs to Bobby's apartment. My Virgin Sidekick vibrated, and I looked at it quickly as the guys made their way up the stairs.

_1 New Text Message from Bobby Pelitt_.

I opened it.

**Monika-  
Don't fuckin forget about tonight. See you around 8:30?  
-Bobby**

I really don't want to kill Bobby Pelitt.

**Review? :D**


	6. Party At A Rich Dude's House

**6**

"Dude, this guy owns a fucking bear?" Dale yelped after almost slamming himself against a taxidermy grizzly bear in Bobby's garage. I rolled my eyes at him, and Kurt yanked Dale to go up the stairs to Bobby's apartment.

"Guys, Bobby just texted me. He's going to be home at eight thirty. We have a half hour, alright?" I reminded them, arching an eyebrow at the three of them as we scurried up the stairs.

Kurt, Nick, Dale and I finally got to the top of the stairs. Bobby's apartment looked like a Ancient Egyptian or Ke$ha lived there. It had expensive Egyptian and Roman sculptures, shaded and bright lights, black and cheetah-covered couches, giant Roman paintings, and colorful draperies everywhere. Animal skins served as layered carpeting over regular tan carpeting, and a foosball table stood in the middle of the main room. Everything that was expensive was in Bobby's apartment. Two lavish couches were in the end of the room with a fancy black coffee table, facing a giant olympic-themed pool outside. A plasma screen TV stood in the corner near the coffee table, with giant speakers on either side. My jaw dropped, impressed at how expensive and intense his home was.

"Look at this place!" Kurt exclaimed, "It's like a douchebag museum! As if we walked into the mind of an asshole. It's like sharper image took a shit in here!"

I shot him a sideways glance and a small smile, "We get the picture, smart ass."

"The guy has a foosball table? Yes!" Dale's face lit up, sprinting for the foosball table, gripping the controllers with his grubby little hands. Nick attempted to stop him, "Dale, hey! Stop that! Don't touch anything! Fingerprints, _hello_!"

"Fingerprints! Shit. We should be wearing gloves." Dale exclaimed.

"Gloves! We don't have any!" Kurt sighed, then his face lit up, unrolling his sleeves, "Your sleeves! Use your sleeves as gloves. They'll be sleeve-gloves."

Dale and Kurt held their sleeves of the shirts over their hands. Nick couldn't because he was wearing a short-sleeve polo, and I couldn't because I was wearing a dress. I crossed my arms, Nick arched his eyebrows, "What's the plan?"

"We're here to get intell, Nick." Kurt exclaimed, as if Nick was stupid and he should've know that already. "Intell?" Nick asked sarcastically, looking at the three of us curiously.

"_Intell_. Short for intelligence!" Kurt reassured.

"I _know_ what it means!" Nick hissed.

"Then why did you ask?" Dale and I said unison.

"Why are we talking about this?" Kurt asked, "Look, let's split up. Nick and Dale, you look around here. Monika, you come with me into Bobby's room. Let's go."

Nick and Dale headed for the coffee table, while Kurt led the way to Bobby's room, which conjoined to the main room.

Bobby's room was just as intense as the living room. A picture of him holding nunchucks with BOBBY underneath it was on the right wall; the carpeting was still animal-covered. A small disco ball was attached to the ceiling to the left of the bedroom. Egyptian and Roman decorations frequented the walls. The entire front wall had black cabinets with the bed attached, which was king-sized with a massive black and gold headboard. The bed had at least six to seven massive black and gold pillows on it, with matching black sheets and comforter with a cheetah blanket folded at the end of the bed. His nightstand held his old cellphone (which he used rarely), a giant bedside lamp and a alarm clock stereo. The left wall of the bedroom was a just giant window, with all the shades down.

Kurt crept around the room, "The cockiness of this guy is _unbelievable_!"

"What were you expecting? A little shack of a house? He owns a chemical company, Kurt. Believe it or not, Bobby's really wealthy. Despite his idiotic image." I smirked, looking around the bedroom.

No pictures of Jack were anywhere, and I really guessed that Bobby despised his own father. I mean, Jack never really paid as much attention to Bobby as he probably should have, given that Jack always postioned his attention on Kurt, all the time. Jack saw Kurt as the son he always wanted, and Bobby as a disappointment. I felt bad, given that Bobby was truly jealous of Kurt.

I swirled around, catching Kurt shoving Bobby's old cell phone from his into his butt pocket. I gasped, "Kurt! Put it back. He'll notice you took his fucking cell phone."

Kurt shrugged, "No, he won't. He'll think he lost it or something. You stay here, I'll check his bathroom, okay?" I nodded, looking around. Kurt crept into the bathroom next to Bobby's bed.

"Kurt, don't do something you'll regret!" I yelled over my shoulder to him as I looked throughout the room.

I heard a mumbled "whatever" in response and I smiled. My three friends were idiots, yet I was going along with their plot to murder the guy I had feelings for. I inhaled, attempting to tell myself that this was the right thing to do. It failed; it was the exact opposite of what I was feeling.

I really didn't want to kill him. I mean, I was into Bobby. What girl plots to savagely kill the guy they are into with her three idiot friends? Only me.

I quietly looked around, curiously looking at a barely-open drawer in Bobby's bedside table. I carefully lifted my foot up and flicked the handle of it with my flip flop; it opened a little more, and I looked inside.

An opened package of Trojan Fire & Ice condoms, a pack of Marlboro cigarettes, a small cocaine dicing mirror, a straw, a few loose condoms, a pair of cufflinks, an address book, a few credit cards, and a yellow sticky note.

I looked closer at the sticky note, and I felt a smile break on my lips. The sticky note read:

**Monika Lively  
438. 952. 9687**

He saved my number. To me, that was pretty nice of a guy to do, especially for Bobby's standards. I smirked to myself, but then a frown fell onto my face when I realized we were hear to find stuff to kill him with. I sighed and walked over to the Bobby's bathroom, my jaw dropping and a gasp escaping my lips when I saw what Kurt was doing, a big dumb mischevious grin on his face.

Bobby's toothbrush was halfway down Kurt's pants as he rubbed it in his buttcrack, Kurt alarmingly looking at me in surprise as I stumbled into the sleek, ultra-modern bathroom.

"Kurt, what the fuck did I just say?" I sighed, standing in the doorway, Kurt looking at me innocently with the toothbrush still in his ass. He pondered the thought, then replied slowly, "Not to do anything I'll regret?"

"Right. And what are you doing now?" I eyed his butt, as he slowly retracted the toothbrush. Kurt flashed me a grin and responded smartly, "Monika, I _don't_ regret shoving Bobby's toiletries in my anus."

"Toiletrie_s_?" I asked, "How many did you rub in your butt? Kurt, this is _gross_."

"His razor, his toothbrush..." Kurt replied playfully, "His floss..."

I held up my palm to him, cutting him off, "That's too much information, Dr. Buttox. Put Bobby's stuff back and let's go see what Dale and Nick are doing before they blow the apartment up. I think I heard a vacuum cleaner?"

Kurt and I walked out of Bobby's bedroom and shut off the light.

I made a mental note and reminded myself that I'd run by the grocery store tomorrow morning and buy Bobby new floss, toothbrush, and razor.

Kurt's eyeballs bulged out of his sockets when we saw Dale and Nick scooping up dirty cocaine on Bobby's coffee table and carpet. They had a pasta drainer and were sorting the cocaine back into a giant silver box, with a small, hand-held vacuum cleaner off to the side. I gawked at Nick and Dale, not believing what I was seeing.

"What are you _doing_?" Kurt gasped.

"Y'know, I have to take a quick dump!" Nick exclaimed enthusiastically, springing up off the carpet from helping Dale with the cocaine and sprinting for the bathroom in Bobby's bedroom, past me and Kurt, who stood there completely dumbfounded.

"You take a dump, I'll do the pushups!" Dale squeaked, instantly dropping and began doing his exercises, pushing himself rapidly up and down like a nutcase.

"What have you guys_ done_?" Kurt demanded, strapping up his belt and walking to Dale, who kept doing pushups in between the two couches.

"You _spilt_ Bobby's cocaine?" I yelped, smacking Dale in the shoulder. "That's worth almost ten grand! Dale, you are a fucking_ idiot_! What were you thinking? He's going to freak!"

"It's okay, Monika. I got this, _I got this_! You wanna help me clean, guys? Like this is friendship stuff. We _bond_ over this shit, man!" Dale rambled in his high-pitched voice, clearly affected by the cocaine, "I mean, this is so _bitter_. You bring me into this man's house, and suddenly I'm a expert in sorting cocaine!" He spilled the cocaine into the pasta drainer into the box.

"Oh, shit, Dale! You inhaled it?" I said, frustrated. Kurt and I exchanged dumbfounded glances.

Before Kurt or I had the chance to brutally attack Dale, the garage door cranked open from underneath us, the rumbling noise making us all jump. Bobby's Ferarri Enzo's engine loudly shut off. Nick sprang out of the bathroom, buckling his belt, "Pelitt's home! Shit!"

"Monika, you said eight thirty!" Kurt gasped, looking at his cell phone. "It's eight fifteen!"

"He's early! It's not _my_ fault!" I replied, freaking out.

Dale, Nick and Kurt looked at me, panicked. I looked around and we all froze when we heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, "Hide!"The three boys looked at me like I was a complete incompetant idiot for making up that plan, to hide. The steps grew louder, and Kurt, Dale, and Nick scurried over behind some of the curtains.

"Monika, distract him! We'll leave at the right minute. Meet us by the corner of the street!" Kurt whispered over his shoulder, "Then we'll move on to Harkin's house!"

I nodded, and the three disappeared from view as they hid quietly in the curtains.

Bobby walked up the staircase, yawning. For once his eyes weren't cocaine affected, and he looked geniunely tired. He threw his car keys on the table next to the stairs, and he noticed I stood there after he yawned. "Monika? You're here fuckin' early." He said, a smug smile on his face.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that." I cringed, attempting to look away from the curtains that concealed the three stooges. I inhaled and grabbed the piece of paper from my pocket of my dress that I wrote all of Bobby's appointments on, "Here's your appointments. Sorry I left early today, Bobby. It was on short notice."

"Nah, it's fucking fine." Bobby shrugged, standing in front of me and taking the slip of paper, "Thanks, Monika."

I smirked at him, "You were yawning. Late night with the hookers and cocaine?"

"Oh, fuck! You caught me." Bobby said, his voice laced with sarcasm, but lightly laughed it off, "No, not tonight."

I smirked at him, arching an eyebrow. He imitated me and I laughed, For a second, I completely forgot that Kurt, Dale, and Nick were standing there behind the curtains, secretly watching. I looked at Bobby, not really knowing what I was doing, and inhaled, "Are you really going to hire Bolivian with the threat of killing people like that?"

"They're cheaper." He snapped, "So why the fuck not, right?"

"You have millions to spare," I said slowly, attempting to figure him out, "And you can't spend a thousand or two thousand to save peoples' lives? Real compassionate, Bobby."

"Are you still PMSing?" Bobby retorted, arching an eyebrow at me, "Monika, I'm not changing my mind."

"Jack would've wanted you to hire the right and unharmful company." I urged him, shooting him a glare. I regretted bringing up Bobby's father, when he got really irritated.

"I really don't give a fucking shit about what he wanted! He rode my ass every fucking day because I was his son. He never gave Kurt, that _fucking_ asshole, any shit. You know it!" Bobby snapped.

I swore I heard Kurt mutter, "What a _douchebag_." and Dale's giggling behind the curtain, but Bobby didn't notice.

"You are a fucking idiot." I muttered, "You are so..."

He rolled his eyes and before I knew what was going on or before I could finish my sentance, his mouth was clashing against mine, cutting me off. My eyes widened and I was about to protest, but I just let myself go with it and shut my eyes. So what if I was into him? Kurt, Nick and Dale could suck it up.

Bobby grasped my torso and I fed more into the kiss, letting him go deeper. He grabbed me and I hitched my arms around his neck, not believing I was making out with my boss, the cocaine-addicted, whore-loving physcopath, Bobby Pelitt.

We moved to the bedroom, and while we kissed, on my way down I slammed the top of the alarm clock stereo so that music could play, so Bobby wouldn't hear Kurt, Dale, and Nick leave.

I laid on my back on the bed. While Bobby took off his shirt, I looked into the other room and saw Kurt and Nick, their jaws dropping, and Dale was way too coked up to know what was going on. Kurt mouthed a scream of 'what the fuck, Monika!' and I looked at him reassuringly. The three bolted down the stairs quitely, making for a quick escape.

_How You Like Me Now? _by the Heavy blared in my eardrums as Bobby smirked at me.

He had a tattoo on his right chest and one on his left shoulder. I arched an eyebrow and smirked back at him mockingly, and I let him take off my dress, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the floor. I sat in my tank top and the shorts I had worn under my dress.

Bobby reached into his drawer, the same one I'd opened, and I knew what he was grabbing for.

He came back down and we continued kissing, pushing away the pillows on the bed, the song blaring the background.

I knew the Kurt, Dale and Nick were going to have a few choice words to say to me.

_how you like me now?_  
_how you like me now?_  
_how you like me now?_  
_so, how you like me now?_

_remember the time_  
_when he took over?_

No doubt about that.

**Review? ;D**


	7. I Do Not Hook Up

**7**

My eyes flashed open, waking me up at the sound of my ringtone _Cocaine_ ringing in my eardrums like a mosquito buzzing in my ear. I yawned and felt around for my cell phone on the nightstand, confused at where I was at first. I looked around and saw a gaudy and expensive-looking room, and I realized I was lying on Bobby's bed in his apartment. And, I'd fallen asleep after we had sex. And, the three idiots were probably freaking out.

Bobby was spooning me, his arms draped around my torso. When I reached for the cell phone, he stirred at the noise and flipped over to his side, his back facing me, yawning and putting the pillow over his head.

I quickly looked at the digital clock, totally relieved that I'd slept for only about fifteen minutes, it was almost eight forty-five. The boys hadn't be waiting more than fifteen minutes.

"H...Hello?" I asked groggily into the reciever, yanking up my tank top and pulling the black comforter over my abdomen.

"Monika, you are _such_ a whore!" Kurt's voice shrieked so loud that I had to hold the cell phone away from my ear, and winced at my Virgin Sidekick. "You slept with Pelitt!"

"Calm down." I snapped, "I'll explain later."

I heard some rambling, yelling and comotion over the reciever, and it sounded like the three of them were fighting for the phone. Then, Nick was on the phone. "Monika, we're coming into his driveway and the three of us will lie down so it looks like it's your car. Are you coming?"

"Yeah." I muttered, talking in simple answers so Bobby, who was lying next to me, wouldn't get suspicious. I bit my lip and Nick replied laughing, "Okay. I can't believe you slept with him."

"Did you let him snort cocaine off your boobs?" Dale, still clearly high, laughed over the line.

I rolled my eyes and hung up, throwing the comforter off me. Bobby yanked the pillow of his head, looking at me as I stretched and yawned dramatically. I pulled on my shorts, but Bobby reached out and pulled me back onto the bed with him.

"Where the fuck are _you_ going?" He smirked at me, on top of me, readying himself. I smirked back up at him, and I knew in an instant that the love/hate relationship wasn't gone, even though we'd fucked. We still hated each other and we would continue to tease each other.

He positioned himself carefully on top of me, giving me that smug, crooked smile. I rolled my eyes as Bobby tugged on the top of my panties. He raised his eyebrows as he tugged, hinting that we should go at it again. He smirked smugly at me, teasing me like a kid.

I reached up and kissed him, then jokingly pushed him off with a palm to his bare chest, "No more, vicious little freak. I have to go. My tennant's kicking me out of my apartment on Saturday, so I gotta start packing my shit tonight."

"Ah, c'mon, Monika," Bobby whined, rolling his eyes as he rolled over on the bed, watching me as I pulled on my shorts and threw my dress over my head, squirming to shrug it on, "Who was on the phone? You seriously have to leave? You've been here for fucking fifteen minutes! And since the fuck when did you get evicted?"

"What's with all the questions, Sherlock? And it was my tennant. And, since yesterday." I said simply, shrugging at him, "I couldn't pay the last two months of rent. Even if I came up with the money, it wouldn't help. The tennant wants me out no matter what. She thinks I'm irresponsible."

He winced at me, still lying on the bed as I stood up, "Ah, fuck...that's my fault, isn't it?"

"Bingo!" I said smugly, my voice laced with sarcasm, "And I thought you were an idiot."

"A little bit." He retorted contemptly, standing up and adjusting his boxers, "Why don't you move in with me?"

My eyes widened at him, "Seriously?"

"Why the fuck not?" He shrugged, "We've known each other for four years. We hate each other, but we can cope, and if your tennant won't give you a second chance if I give you enough money...plus, it doesn't have to be permanent if you don't want it to be. You can crash here until you find a fucking apartment."

"Are you sure?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Yeah, why not?" He said, getting up and pulling up his boxers, "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Yeah, I better get packing." I exhaled, realizing that now that I agreed to crash with Bobby, I was getting in deeper shit with Dale, Kurt and Nick.

"Fine. I'll walk you downstairs." Bobby yawned.

I nodded, combing my hair with my fingers to avoid sex hair. I inhaled and braced myself for Kurt, Dale and Nick's intense roast of me. They'd annoy and tease me about this for years, and I was not ready for them to start shitting on me. Kurt sounded infuriated over the reciever, while Dale and Nick were laughing their asses off.

Bobby led the way down a fancy-looking staircase with fogged, car-wash style windows. He was bare-chested and boxers, which the boys would shit on me for. I groaned when I saw Kurt's car in the driveway, the three idiots ducking down to fool Bobby into thinking that I'd come here alone.

Bobby opened the door and smirked at me. I leaned up against the doorway. It was one of those awkward, yet non-awkward moments. Were we supposed to kiss? I mean, I'd be living with him. We hated each other but felt attraction for each other, so what were we supposed to do? I looked at him thoughtfully, awaiting him to say or do something first.

"You're the first non-whore I've slept with in a fuckin while, Monika." Bobby said, being honest. I smirked at him, and said, "And how was it?"

"Fucking _sick_." He said, leaning in and pushing him mouth against mine. I smiled through the kiss and kissed him back, but he was more aggressive. We broke away and I smirked at him, "My life's beginning to be like Cinemax. Sleeping with my boss? My God."

"I like Cinemax." Bobby grinned deviantly, and I rolled my eyes, and hugged him briefly, "'I'll see you at work tomorrow. Night, freak."

"'Night, skank." He replied, keeping that dumb grin on his face.

I smirked to myself and I walked out the door. After about ten steps, as I was about to climb into the car, Bobby shut the door. Once he was out of sight, the three nimrods popped up like nutcases in their seats. Kurt drove, Nick was still in the passenger seat, and Dale sat in the backseat.

I slumped next to Dale, who had white, ashy cocaine in his jet-black fohawk. Kurt pulled out of the driveway and the three of them were staring at me, Kurt's blue eyes shooting me a death glare from the front seat.

"Monika, you fucking slept with Bobby!" Kurt ranted, "I can't believe you! That's gross! Our goal was to kill him, not fuck him!"

"Sorry, sorry! I know." I muttered, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I find this quite comical." Dale said rapidly, his words mushing together from the energy he'd recieved from Bobby's cocaine. I burst out laughing at him.

"Is he better at it than me?" Kurt smirked jokingly. "Was he on top?"

I kicked the back of his seat and laughed, "Don't ask me that for the first question, and yes for the second question."

"I think it's hilarious." Nick commented, but caught Kurt's glare, clearing his throat, "I mean...it better not ruin the plan, Monika."

"Oh, grow a pair. It's fine," I replied, rolling down the window, letting the Los Angeles summer night air come through the car as we drove to Harkin's house.

"Monika, this isn't fucking _Chicago_, and you're not in Cell Block Tango. You don't fuck him then murder him!" Kurt muttered, clutching the steering wheel.

"_Chicago_? Have you been going through my stash of DVDs again, Kurt?" I asked, laughing. "You fucked the cokehead." Dale said bluntly.

"Yes, I know...?" I said, looking at him like he was crazy, "You are so high right now, aren't you?"

"What?" Dale asked, completely out of it.

"Forget him. He's on Pluto right now." Kurt laughed. Dale leaned forward and punched him right in the shoulder, causing Kurt to swerve the car. Kurt snapped, "Don't fucking punch the driver!"

"I'm coked out! I can punch whoever the fuck I want!" Dale squeaked.

"Listen, the three of you." Nick said calmly, attempting to calm all of us down, "We need to be better organized. Our else it's a complete waste of time."

"Actually..." Kurt said, ruffling through his pants pockets, and bringing out Bobby's cell phone, "It's got his contacts, schedule, everything."

"It's his old phone, nitwit." I sang-song in Kurt's ear.

He narrowed his eyes jokingly at me through the rearview mirror, "Then you're gonna hook us up with the new one, right?"

"That's a crime! You _stole_ it!" Dale squeaked, leaning forward, in between the passenger and front seats.

"We broke in! Monika fucked Bobby! You guys did cocaine!" Kurt pointed out.

"Three crimes!" Dale chirped.

"Having sex isn't a _crime_!" I protested quietly.

"We're in the process of killing three people and you're giving me shit about stealing his cell phone?" Kurt snapped, glaring at Dale in the rearview mirror.

"Easy boys." I rolled my eyes, slumping back in my seat, listening to my three best friends fight in the front seat.

"Run it by me before you go stealing stuff!" Coked-up Dale exclaimed wildly.

"Run it by you? Nick, hold this for a sec." Kurt said, and Nick took the steering wheel. Kurt reached back, reaching across my abdomen, and began punching Dale. I laughed and so did Nick, until Kurt went back into his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again.

* * *

By the time we pulled up to Dave Harkin's mansion, it was almost nine thirty. The house was massive. We all unbuckled and the four of us began getting out of the car, into the night.

"Are you guys ready for this?" Dale shouted, the cocaine exciting him.

"Note to self, never let Dale within one hundred yards of Dale..." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Monika's right. Dale, calm down." Nick said, "The last time the four of us did this, things got...disorganized." He looked at Dale, "Okay, Harkin's not home. Dale, you're going to keep lookout. If Harkin comes, beep the horn, okay? Me, Kurt and Monika will go through the house to find some intell."

"I got this, I got this!" Dale exclaimed.

Kurt, Nick and I looked at each other nervously, but nodded to Dale and began booking it for the house.

"Wait!" Dale yelled, "How many honks?"

"One, obviously." Kurt said, looking at him like he was insane.

"Four honks. People honk just once all the time." Dale pointed out.

"Ugh, Dale. Just honk twice!" I said, pulling the two others to the door, given we didn't have a whole lot of time to get intell.

"I got this!" Dale yelled.

We got to the door, searching for a way in. We couldn't find hardly any way except the door. Nick smiled as he spied a hide-a-key rock by some plants on the steps, grabbing it and smiling at Kurt and I, "Look!"

"Great, a rock!" Kurt exclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing it from Nick and throwing it at the glass French doors. Nick and I looked at him wildly, and I narrowed my eyes at him, "It's a hide-a-key rock, Kurt."

"I knew that..." Kurt said, embarssed. I laughed as Nick cranked the door open and we stepped in.

_I can't kill Bobby. I won't. We had sex, there's no way. I like him. He's not that bad, he's just a douchebag and a jerk. _My mind wandered, but Kurt snapped me out orf my thoughts when he jabbed me in the ribcage to keep walking into Harkin's house.

I nodded, following Kurt and Nick into the house.

And for some reason, I thought I heard _That's Not My Name _by the Ting Tings playing outside...

**Any suggestions on how I should go about the storyline if I don't plan on having Harkin kill Bobby?  
I have an idea, but I'm still kind of planning it out.  
****Review? :D**


	8. Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

**8**

Kurt, Nick and I tip-toed into the front foyer of Harkin's mansion. We crept into the living room, which was furnished with wooden panneling and lavish couches, the room was spotless. A a giant professional picture of Harkin, a man in his fifties, his cat, and his young wife, hung on the wall. She looked at least ten years older than me. She looked way too young for him.

"By the way, you guys..." I bit my lip, hesitating a little bit, "I think you should know...I'm going to crash at Bobby's until I find an apartment."

Their reactions weren't what I thought they were going to be.

"That's perfect! You have access to kill him at any time!" Kurt exclaimed, and Nick nodded. "That actually works perfectly. You're always ready to attack! Now we don't really have to worry about him, 'cause you can do it."

I swallowed hard. I don't think they knew that I was actually, seriously going to be living with Bobby. They thought I was just going to do it so I could murder him. I was tempted to tell them the truth, but decided against it.

"Hey, Monika." Kurt nudged me in the ribcage with his elbow and said jokingly, "Don't screw Harkin, okay? I know you like letting the boss fuck you, but..."

"I swear, I'm going to kick you in the balls if you say another word or reference about me having sex with Bobby tonight." I shot Kurt a mischevious smirk, cutting off his sentance.

"Guys, shut up! Pay attention. We need intell." Nick urged.

We walked into the second foyer to the staircase and Nick began to speak when a grey cat flung itself onto him, screeching and making the three of us jump and Nick shout, "My God!"

"Calm down, it's just a cat." Kurt held his hands up, signaling it was no big deal. Nick huffed, obviously nervous about breaking into Harkin's house. This guy must be a real monster.

We walked up the grand staircase, eventually walking up into the upstairs hallway, which had cat decorations and pictures on the wall. Nick walked first, then Kurt, and I trailed behind him. Kurt stopped mid-walk and I bumped into his back, and playfully smacked his back, "Watch where you're going, weenie."

"Sorry, Bobbybanger." Kurt replied sweetly, giving me a smug smirk. I rolled my eyes, "Shut up." I walked around him as he looked at a picture of Harkin and his wife on their wedding day.

"Hey, is that Harkin's wife? She is hot!" Kurt snorted, Nick and I sighing at Kurt's horniness. "C'mon, Kurt. Let's go." Nick urged, but Kurt stayed.

"I'd like to bend her over a barrell and show her the fifty states, y'know what I mean?" Kurt grinned deviantly, looking at Nick and I, who stared back at him, dumbfounded.

"No, I _don't_ know what you mean." I said, and Nick said in unison with me, "No clue what you're talking about."

"It's from a movie!" Kurt said, attempting to reassure us.

"Pretty sure it isn't..." I said, biting my lip smartly.

"Yeah, Monika's right. Now, back to the recon!" Nick said, attempting to pull Kurt's attention back. Nick began walking down the hall, and Kurt and I followed him. We went to the end of the hallway and Nick turned the doorknob, entering into the master bedroom. It was luxurious and expensive-looking, but different than Bobby's in style.

"Look for an address or contact book, something." Nick ordered. Kurt and I nodded together, and began looking and snooping around the bedroom.

"It's too bad we aren't looking for cats. These people fucking love cats." Kurt commented pleasantly, looking around the room for any trace of contact information.

I laughed at his comment.

The three of us searched around the room, and Kurt ran to the wind and gasped, "Whoa, whoa. Hey, look at this! Check it out! Hurry!"

Nick and I dashed over to the windows, gazing outside with Kurt. In the middle of the street in the night was Dale on top of Harkin, plummeting what looked like a knife directly into his chest. I gasped, slapping a hand over my mouth in shock.

"Dale's killing Harkin?" Nick asked in utter shock, as we watched Dale jab at Harkin's chest aggressively, winding up and slamming the device into Harkin's upper body. Kurt grabbed both Nick and my arms and dragged us out of the room, "We gotta go, now. Hurry up, let's go!"

We sprinted out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and booked it to the car. I practically tripped going down the stairs, which almost caused Nick to trip, too. We got down the stairs and ran out the door. Kurt jumped into the bushes and crossed the sidestreet, Nick and I scurrying like nutcases after him.

Little did I know, Kurt dropped Bobby's old cell phone on Harkin's rug in his bedroom.

Nick, Kurt and I walked down the sidewalk in the night, waiting for Dale to finally find us after two very long honks were heard. Kurt and Nick were furious, freaking out.

"We're going to jail for this!" Kurt snorted.

"I can't go to _jail_! I'd get raped in jail!" I squeaked.

"Yeah, you seem pretty easy." Kurt wiggled his eyebrows banteringly.

"That was a reference!" I said triumphantly, and gently side-kicked him in the balls. He yelped and buckled over in pain, gasping for breath, "Sorry, sorry. Ow."

"Look at me, I'd get raped like crazy!" Nick exclaimed as Kurt regained himself and kept walking with us.

"Me too." Kurt muttered in agreement.

"We will all get raped in jail." I concluded with a sigh. _Finally, I get a guy I really like, Bobby, and now I have to go to jail. Just lovely. _I thought to myself.

"No, I would get raped the most." Nick joked.

Kurt looked him up and down, "Yeah, totally."

"Hey, you guys would get raped just as much as I would!" Nick defended.

"Are we seriously having a conversation about who would get raped more?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at the two idiots.

Before either of them could answer me, we heard a car tires' screeching down the street and the revving of an engine. In a second, Dale was pulling up next to us. He hopped out of the car, smiling brightly, and exclaimed, "Oh shit! Did you guys see me out there?"

"Yeah we did, Dale." Kurt said, clearly disappointed.

"Wasn't that cool?" Dale said, grinning ear to ear.

"No, that was _not_ cool. We come here to gather information and you go and stab and kill Harkin in the middle of the road in front of the whole neighborhood!" Nick shrieked, clearly worried.

"...That was Harkin?" Dale asked slowly.

"_Yes_, dipshit." I replied, not very thrilled about the idea of going to jail.

"Who did you think you were stabbing?" Nick looked at Dale wildly, as if Dale was insane.

"I wasn't stabbing anyone," Dale said rationally, "He had an allergic reation to some peanuts. I rescued him, you know what I mean? He had his little allergy shot on him and I jabbed him with that. But I was just saving his life. I saved a man's life!" He smiled, proud of himself.

"Oh, you are _such_ an idiot." I groaned, running a hand down my face.

"My boss, who we are planning to kill, is dying in front of you and you save his life?" Nick asked, annoyed beyond belief. Dale shifted uncomfortably, "Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that."

"That is not cool." Kurt said simply, following me and Nick into the car. Kurt hopped in the frontseat, Nick in the passenger seat, and me in the backseat. Kurt locked the car, stranding Dale outside, who was rambling, "I didn't know it was Harkin! See, this is why you need to tell me what this guy looks like!"

"Can we give Dale a time-out for a minute?" I asked my two nitwits in the frontseats, rubbing my temples due to the stress Dale's squeaky little voice was causing me. Kurt and Nick smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Make up your fucking minds! Hey, what is this?" Dale squeaked outside the car, pulling on every door handle on the car stupidly, yanking them like a five year old.

"You guys gotta admit, we got good intell tonight." Nick pointed out. I scrunched up in the backseat so I was in the middle of Kurt and Nick. "We found out that Harkin's allergic to peanuts and Pelitt's got a huge stash of cocaine."

"All we have to do is figure out a way to get peanuts into Harkin's house and put some poison in Pelitt's cocaine, right?" Kurt asked, looking at Nick and I.

I chewed on my lip, my heart sinking when Kurt said that we needed to poison Bobby's cocaine. _I can't let this happen. We're going to be living together, and I have a thing for him. We had sex, for crying out loud. I really like Bobby. Okay, so he's a sex-crazed playboy cokehead, but he's MY sex-crazed playboy cokehead._

"It's easy and likely for someone to just think that Pelitt got a bad batch of cocaine." Nick reasoned, and the color from my face flushed in worry.

"Are you seriously locking me out of the car like we're in 8th grade?" Dale snapped, yanking on the car door handle. The three of us ignored him.

"And Harkin?" I asked, attempting to get the subject off of Bobby.

"Monika, let me in!" Dale banged his fists on the window. The three of us continued to ignore him.

"He has that injector thing with him." Kurt pointed out.

"He doesn't shower with it." Nick suggested.

"So we just put some peanuts in his shampoo or something?" Kurt asked.

"I guess so. What do we do about Dale's boss, though?" I asked.

"I'm doing her recon tomorrow night." Kurt replied, unlocking the car, allowing Dale to climb into the backseat with me. "Very, very funny guys. Hilarious!" Dale said sarcastically, shooting us annoyed glances.

"Okay, Dale. Help us settle this. If me, Nick and Monika went to prison, who do you think would get raped more?" Kurt asked, looking in the rearview mirror at him.

"Nick." Dale said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Really!" Kurt exclaimed, surprised, "Why?"

"'Cause it's about vunerability and weakness." Dale explained.

"Again, why are we having this awkward conversation?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at Kurt, Nick and Dale. They grinned back at me.

I'm friends with idiots.

* * *

I wore a white unbuttoned cardigan with a black and white striped tank top underneath, light ripped jean shorts, and plain white flip flops the next day into work. I didn't know whether or not Marge, Hank, or any of the other employees at Pelitt & Son would notice that Bobby and I had sex the night before or that were romantically involved now. Everyone in the office knew that Bobby and I hated each other, so they'd be shocked when they heard we'd had sex.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I walked in, a Red Bull in my hand and my Virgin Sidekick in the same hand, pressed up against the can as I held them in my clutch. Kurt was at his desk, and his face lit up when he saw me walking in. He got up and began talking to me.

"Monika, I'm heading out to the grocery store with Dale and Nick. They're meeting me there. We're getting the supplies for tonight. Are you coming?" He asked, but was interuppted.

"Monika! Slave!" Bobby's voice yelled from his office. Every employee looked up and rolled their eyes, getting really sick of Bobby's antics. I bit back a laugh.

I looked at Kurt, "Apparently, I can't. You guys get the stuff. I'll see you later." Kurt rolled his eyes at Bobby, said bye to me, and headed out.

I huffed and threw my bag on Kurt's desk chair. No matter if you slept with Bobby or not, he was still demanding. I grumbled to myself and I entered Bobby's office, exhausted from the night before. We got home around two o'clock in the morning. I had barely any energy left.

He was spinning around in his office chair, bored. Cocaine was sprawled out across the paperwork on his desk, a few beer and vodka bottles on the floor from the past of week or so. A pack of Marlboro cigarettes was sitting lazily near the lamp on his desk.

"Yes, Your Highness?" I asked sarcastically, standing across from Bobby, who smirked smugly at me because of my sarcasm. He got up from his massive desk chair.

"I need you to come with me to the pharmacy and shit." He demanded. I nodded, then realized that we'd probably bump into Kurt, Nick and Dale. While they were buying things to kill the bosses with. Lovely.

"Are you fucking coming to my apartment tonight?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at me, with a crooked, smug smirk on his face. That deviant little smirk.

"Yeah, my tennant's freaking out at me." I replied in a sigh. He moved over to me in the middle of the office, gripping my torso in his hands, each hand on my upper ribcage. "Good." He muttered mischeviously, arching his eyebrows at me.

I smirked at Bobby. Even though Kurt and him loathed each other, they had one thing in common; they were insanely sex-crazed. I rolled my eyes at Bobby, but smiled at him.

Our mouths were at least two inches from each other, and he quickly pressed his mouth against mine without any hesitation. He smirked as he kissed me, pressing me up against his desk. I dug deeper into the kiss, but he was still more aggressive, and I allowed his tongue in my mouth. The kiss deepened, feeling hardcore.

Bobby began unbuckling the belt on my shorts as we kissed, but we were awkwardly (and abruptly) interrupted by Marge barging in on us.

"Mr. Pelitt, I..." She began, holding some paperwork he was supposed to approve, but then saw the two of us aggressively sucking face.

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide. Bobby and I both broke away quickly, and I finger-combed my hair out. Bobby still held my torso with one hand, both of us attempting to look innocent. Failure, in my opinion. Marge quickly left the office, and Bobby snickered.

"I think it's time we go to the store now..." I suggested, not wanting to be in the office when every single employee learned that Bobby and I were sucking face in his office. All I needed was to be labled the office slut.

"Yeah. I'll get my car." Bobby replied, smirking.

* * *

"Achoo...oh fuck. I'm sneezing dust bunnies. Monika, is that diabetes?" Bobby asked, after sneezing, "Oh my God, is that my brain?"

Given that Dale and Nick had dumbly vaccumed up Bobby's cocaine and put it back in his cocaine box, Bobby had snorted it, dust and cocaine mixed together.

"No, you idiot." I rolled my eyes, smiling, "Calm down."

But inside, I was panicking. I was panicking about two things; Accidentally falling in love with Bobby and not being able to tell my three best friends about it, because they wanted to murder him. The second, having Bobby snorting cocaine that the boys so stupidly put back after vaccuming it up.

"I'll be right back, alright? Try not to hurt yourself." I said teasingly, and Bobby nodded.

We were at Los Angeles Grocery. I quickly looked in the aisles I suspected Nick, Kurt and Dale were in. I found Dale with the peanuts, frantically scooping peanut jars into his basket.

"Monika, hi! I thought Kurt said you couldn't get out of work?" Dale said while he scrooped at least eight jars of Mr. Peanut into his red grocery basket. Dale was going to kill Harkin, Kurt and I were going to kill Julia, and Nick was going to kill Bobby.

_I need to get them to not go through with this._

"You need that many peanuts?" I asked dumbfounded, "There's a shit load in there. And no, I'm actually here with my boss, regrettably..."

"The cokehead!" Dale chirped loudly in his high-pitched, raspy voice. I smacked his arm, and said sarcastically, "Um, say it a little louder, Dale."

"Sorry." He turned that dark hue of red, and smirked at me, "Can I meet this guy? I mean, I did after all inhale his cocaine and sort it for him. I think I should be able to meet him."

Before I could answer, Kurt and Nick strutted towards us. Kurt looked at me, surprised.

"Bobby let you out of work, Monika?" Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow at me. I shook my head no, "I'm here with him now. He's getting his ecstasy." I said, rolling my eyes.

"And thanks to the two of you," I pointed at Dale and Nick, "He's sneezing up dust and shit from the vaccum! You are such idiots sometimes, the both of you. Why would you vaccum up cocaine? Who _does_ that?"

"I thought it was a good idea." Dale smiled.

"I know you did." Kurt mumbled.

"Shit, he's here now?" Nick asked. I looked into Nick's hand, and realized he had rat poison. He was planning on putting rat poison in Bobby's cocaine.

_Shit._

"Rat poison?" I asked, "That's fucked up. Guys, this is too much..."

"Monika, don't back out!" Kurt accussed banteringly, thinking I was joking.

I sighed, and Dale chirped again, "So do I get to meet this crazy ass? Or not?"

"You _want_ to meet him? He's a fuckin' asshole." Kurt muttered.

"Don't you think it's weird to meet him and we're planning to kill him, Dale?" I said, but I was so tired, I didn't even argue.

I huffed, "Fine. We're both leaving anyways. Kurt, try not to get into a fight with him in a public place, okay?" Kurt mumbled something along the lines of "he's a fuckin' prick".

How was I going to find a way to weasel the three of them out of killing Bobby?

**Thanks again for reviewing and your amazing suggestions!  
Review? :D**


	9. How You Like Me Now?

**Hi readers! I just really wanted to tell you guys how much I appreciate your reviews. It's awesome and really appreciated that you take time to tell me what you think of this story, and hopefully I've got Bobby in character. I never thought that this fic would get the feedback it's gotten. Here's the chapter were Bobby would die in the movie, but I'm gonna avoid that, haha. Speaking of which, I just watched _Minority Report_ with my friends...why is it that in every movie, Colin gets shot in the chest and then the head? That's like the fifth movie I've seen that happen to him, including _Bosses_...lol anyway, here's the new chapter! :D**

**9**

I bit my lip, chewing on it in anxiety. I walked past the cash registers, away from Kurt, Dale, and Nick. Bobby stood there, arching his eyebrow at me in questioning, wondering where I'd been. I shrugged at him and smirked. He pulled out his keys, "Ready to go? I just gotta grab a bottle of Jack while we're here."

Kurt, Dale, and Nick were at the register, and I nodded at Bobby, "Alright, I'll grab it. I'll meet you at the register."

Bobby nodded and I made my way for the liquor aisle, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Things were speeding through my mind at the speed of light, sorting through choices of what I could do tonight to stop Nick from poisoning Bobby. I mean, I'd be there tonight, so I guess I could stop it then.

I quickly walked down the aisle, my flip flops smacking against the tile floors, to the registers, praying hard that Kurt and Bobby weren't fist fighting on the floor. I was relieved when I saw Bobby at the register and handed him the bottle, which he gladly cranked open.

I saw Kurt, Nick, and Dale at the next register over. They exchanged eye contact with me, and Bobby gruffly paid the cashier and we went to the exit of the store, where Dale screeched, "Oh My, God, _Monika_!"

Bobby skidded in his tracks with me, and I pretended as if I hadn't had a reunion with them two minutes earlier.

"Dale, Kurt, Nick! Hi, guys." I said, grinning at them. Bobby and Kurt already had their eyes narrowed like a bunch of punky high schoolers, and I rolled my eyes.

"Nick, Dale. This is my boss, Bobby Pelitt." I said, and I looked between Kurt and Bobby, "They already know each other, I'm pretty sure."

"Hey, man." Dale said, shaking Bobby's hand. Bobby wasn't completely rude, and he smirked at Dale and Nick and muttered, "Hey."

Kurt said roughly in a mutter, "Asshole."

"Dickskin." Bobby said.

"Douche-bag." Kurt snapped back.

Bobby rolled his eyes while he took a swig of the Jack Daniels bottle. I shot Kurt a glare, given that he'd started it. "Monika, let's fuckin' go." Bobby said in a mutter, pulling out his car keys.

"Okay, be right there." I said, and he nodded, making his way to his Ferrari. I shot death glares to Kurt, Nick, and Dale, "Okay, idiots. There. You met him, happy?"

"He _is_ a dick." Dale said, amazed, "Would he be mad if I shouted out to him that I ruined his coke?"

"He just has a bad attitude," I said, "There's a difference."

"He's pretty dickish...is that a word?" Nick commented.

"I can't _wait_ to kill that bastard." Kurt grinned maliciously.

"You're a sadist." I pointed at him playfully, "You have problems."

"You just hate him 'cause he fucked Monika." Dale squeaked, grinning at Kurt.

"_Not_ true. If I wanted to fuck Monika, I could do it anytime, anywhere." Kurt defended, a smug, reassurring look on his smug little face.

"I'm standing right here." I said to Kurt, giving him an 'are you stupid?' look.

We began walking outside, the Los Angeles sun lowering as the day grew later. Dale had at least four bags filled to the brim with jars of peanuts, which made no sense to us, given he only needed one little jar.

Nick had one bag which held the rat poision, which made me anxious. I bit my lip and walked with the guys, and Kurt glared down at Dale's bag.

"Man, why do you have twenty jars of peanuts? What are you hosting, a girly cocktail party?"

"No. If we can't use the peanuts to kill Harkin, we can use them to kill hunger." Dale pointed out.

We stopped at Nick's Prius, the four of his giving each other nervous glances.

Nick unlocked his car and opened the passenger seat, and exhaled, "Okay. Kurt and Monika, you're reconning at Julia's. Dale, you'll kill Harkin. And I'll kill Pelitt."

I chewed on my lip again, my mind begging to tell them what was really going on between Bobby and I.

"I can't make it tonight for recon, Kurt." I lied, "You'll have to fill me in before we take her out, okay?"

"What? Why?" Kurt asked. The three boys looked at me curiously, and I said, "I have to pack my apartment up for tomorrow. _Remember_, evicted?"

Little did they know, I was going over Bobby's. They were going to find out eventually.

"That's okay. I'll fill you in." Kurt said.

"So, we're gonna do this. See you guys on the other side." Dale exhaled.

And that was that.

* * *

I yawned as I hugged a bed pillow to my chest, and I felt relieved as I dramatically stretched on Bobby's king-sized bed. I wore short, red mesh athetic shorts that said Santa Monica High School on the butt and a black and yellow Nirvana T-shirt, my hair tumbling to my chest.

I felt anxious, nervous, and excited, all at the same time. Nick was outside in Prius, waiting for Bobby to go to bed to make his first move. Little did he know, I was here and I wouldn't let him kill Bobby.

My lime green Virgin Sidekick vibrated insanely and began to sing _Cocaine. _I scrambled to answer it, reaching out to the nightstand and flipping it open without a second thought.

"Hello?" I asked into the reciever.

"Monika, I see your car in Pelitt's driveway. You're sleeping with him, aren't you?" Nick's voice floated into my eardrums.

"Damnit," I exhaled, "You caught me."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I mean, you probably shouldn't call Kurt, but...anyway, he really wants me to do it."

"Nick, just give me time. I'll call you back."

"I'm not leaving."

"_Fine_, Nick. Bye."

I slammed the phone shut and put it back on Bobby's nightstand.

A snort and a loud cough came from the living room attached to Bobby's bedroom, and I knew he was snorting a few lines.

"Hey, Scarface! Take it easy and stop smushing your face in your mountain of cocaine. Leave it and just come here. It's not healthy." I called to him, knowing that he was just asking for an overdose.

Bobby stumbled into the bedroom, not high, to my relief. He smirked at me and leaned against the doorway, "Y'know, for once...I'm pretty fucking relieved that I don't have a hooker in my bed tonight."

I blinked up at him a smiled a little, "What do you have in your bed tonight?"

He came closer and sat on the bed, giving me that sex-crazed, smug smirk, "You."

_Nothing_ was romantic about Bobby, which was what I loved. He wasn't gushy. He was grossily crude, rude and straightforward, an asshole. That's why I loved him; I hated really lovey-dovey guys.

Bobby was the exact opposite.

I let him crush his mouth against mine. He instantly went French, and I let him. He slowly climbed on top of me while we kissed, and he pushed my knee back and out of his way so he could get on top. He released himself from the kiss and began pulling off my shorts as I laid there, looking up at him. He grinned deviantly and snickered, "At least we know Large Marge can't barge in now."

I burst out laughing, but shut my mouth when I realized that was pretty mean to say and I'd yelled at him earlier about him saying that. I looked up at him, smirking, "You _are_ a dickhead."

He kissed me hardcore, aggressively.

"That's what they tell me." Bobby replied as he released me, laughing between huffs as he readied me, pulling off his shirt. Before he could position himself on top of me and do the deed, the doorbell rang.

"Who the fuckin'..." Bobby grumbled under his breath, and I looked up at him, confused. Bobby climbed off me, tumbling off the bed and not bothering to put his shirt back on, "Who the fuck is ringing my doorbell at fucking eleven thirty...Monika, stay the fuck there. I'll get it."

I rolled my eyes at his fowl mouth as he walked down the hall and to the staircase that led to the front door.

My Virgin Sidekick vibrated violently and kept blaring _Cocaine_ again. I grumbled to myself and the caller ID read _Nick Hendricks, _with a picture of Nick grinning and giving two thumbs up, with Dale jumping up behind him.

"What?" I growled into the speaker.

The doorbell rang again, then again, frantically. "_Fuck_, I'm coming! _Shut the fuck up_!" I heard Bobby grumble as he made his way down the staircase.

"Monika, you better act quick, 'cause Harkin's at the door and he's got a gun!" Nick said quickly into the reciever. My eyes widened, and I squealed a quick "thank you" to Nick.

I jumped up from Bobby's bed and sprinted down the stairs, practically knocking Bobby over like a bowling pin. He swayed, "Monika, what the hell?"

The doorbell rang four times in a row, quick.

"I'll get it, you're cell just rang. It's Bolivian...they said it was _urgent_." I made a lie up on the spot, my eyes pleading at Bobby. He looked at me, surprised and suspicious.

"Alright...see you in a few...?" Bobby said, his sentance sounding more like a question, arching his eyebrow at me and making his way back up the stairs, confused.

I didn't care that I was in my underwear and Nirvana shirt, I sprinted down the rest of the staircase and to the front door, slowly cranking it open.

A man who I recognized from the picture in his house was Harkin himself. He was a man in his early-to-mid fifties, reasonably tall, slightly balding, and a little chunky. He looked infuriated, and my eyes instantly darted to the gun in his right hand, grasping it tightly.

I spotted Nick's Prius in the background, and he was hunched down in the front seat, staring at Harkin and I.

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked sweetly, opening the door and looking at Harkin anxiously. He glared at me.

"Is this Bobby Pelitt's apartment?" He snapped, clearly not in the mood for bullshit.

"Yeah, but he isn't here." I lied again, attempting to not freak out. My eyes couldn't help but stare at the handgun.

"Who the fuck are you?" He snapped.

"His maid." I said, completely contradicting myself when I remembered I was in my panties.

I mentally slapped myself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maid? Yeah, right. Maybe a stripper dressed up as a maid..._

"Girlfriend, hooker, whore, maid, whatever the flying fuck you are to him," Harkin barked, "Tell him that I know what he did and that I need to have a little talk with him, okay? And give him this."

Harkin threw Bobby's old cell phone at me. I caught it.

He held the gun up to me, and my eyes must've grown to the size of dinner plates. I held my hands up with the cell phone in one hand, "Look, I don't know anything..."

"You tell him what I told you to tell him, okay? And if you go to the police, be rest assurred it will be the last thing you'll ever fucking do." Harkin hissed at me, waving the gun in my face.

"Okay." I squeaked, practically trembling.

Harkin nodded and shot right next to my foot twice, barely missing me by an inch. My eyes widened and he scrambled away, back to his massive SUV, and drove away quickly.

My heartbeat throbbed quicker than it had ever before. I stood there, trembling. Nick jumped out of his Prius when Harkin was out of sight. He sprinted to me, and I felt like I couldn't move.

"Monika, are you okay?" Nick asked, and I nodded.

"I'm okay...he wanted to kill Bobby. Why the fuck would he do that? He would've killed him if he answered the door. He gave me his old cell phone." I told Nick, holding it up.

Nick gawked at me, "Kurt must've dropped it when we were in Harkin's bedroom!"

"Fuck...I'm going to absolutely kill Kurt. _Forget_ our bosses! I'm going after Kurt." I said, infuriated.

"Calm down, Monika. Oh, shit! I bet Harkin thought that Bobby was fucking his wife...he always is paranoid about his wife sleeping around..." Nick said.

"...And he found another guy's cell phone in their bedroom!" I exclaimed, piecing the puzzle together.

The gunshots had gotten the attention from Bobby's neighbors, who's lights flicked on and a lot of yelling was heard.

"_I'm calling the cops_!" Nick and I heard someone yell.

Nick nodded, "Tell Pelitt any excuse you think of. I already called Dale and Kurt, they're meeting us back at the bar. Harkin's a fucking physco."

"Okay, I'll tell him another lie." I sighed, "I'll meet you guys at the bar."

Nick sprinted back to his Prius, and began speeding away in panic. Somehow, I knew that Nick speeding away from a scene were there had been gunshots probably wasn't a good choice.

I slammed Bobby's front door and sprinted back up the staircase, almost slipping. Bobby laid down on the bed, surprisingly looking at me as I ran into the bedroom.

"Whoa, whoa. Who was at the front door?" Bobby asked, getting up, "And what was that noise outside?"

"Uh...girl scouts?" I said, obviously lying. "And I think someone's setting off fireworks."

"Girl scouts? At fucking eleven thirty at night?" Bobby asked, arching an eyebrow at me. "That sounded like a fuckin' gun."

"I guess." I said, pulling on my shorts.

"Wait a sec, Monika. Where the fuck are you going?" He asked, adjusting his boxers.

"I gotta go...Kurt texted me and said he broke his...hip?" I lied yet again, even my face looked like I didn't mean what I was saying.

I was getting annoyed that to start off our relationship, I'd already been put in a murder plot to kill him and now I was lying again to him. This wasn't a healthy relationship.

"Kurt? Who the fuck cares about that _dickwall_. Monika, just relax, for fuck's sake." Bobby grumbled.

"I'll be back in a little while. I swear." I said, attempting to smile at him. I was too worried to even smile.

"Do you not want to fuck? What is it? Fucking shit, every time you're here, you rush out to leave." Bobby snapped, glaring at me.

"I'm sorry. I swear I'll be back in a few." I said, and reached up and kissed him. He smirked through the kiss, accepting my word, and grabbed my torso again.

We stumbled back on the bed and I let him kiss me for a minute, and I aggressively kissed him back. He grinned manically and we released. I bit my lip and smiled up at him, "Does that answer your questions, Bobby?"

"Yeah. I'll give you a fuckin' hour." He joked, letting me up.

I dashed out of Bobby's apartment after saying bye, sprinting outside in the warm Los Angeles summer night. I quickly drove to our bar, seeing the three of my best friends' cars in the parking lot. My mind was speeding at a quick pace.

Would Harkin kill Bobby? Would Harkin try to shoot me? What were Dale, Nick, Kurt and I going to do?

Shit...

**Review? :D**


	10. Grow A Pear

**10**

I took a swig of Smirnoff as Nick, Dale and I waited for Kurt at the bar, my nerves getting the better of me. Kurt came storming in, looking at the three of us, dumbfounded.

"What is going _on_?" He asked.

"I might as well tell you now," I huffed, "Me and Bobby are sleeping together, okay?"

"_What_? Like, official? As in _dating_?" Kurt blurted, surprised.

"Just listen, smartass." I begged him, looking at Nick to tell him what happened.

"I was doing the stakeout at Pelitt's apartment, and Monika was with him, and all of a sudden Harkin rolls up in his SUV, gets out, and guess what he has? A _gun_! A fucking gun!" Nick explained, "And so I called Monika, and she freaked out, and answered the door. He threatened her not to go to the police and shot the ground and escaped before the neighbors freaked."

Kurt stared at him, no words. He then looked at me, "Why didn't you let Bobby answer the door so he could get shot?"

"Why do you think, you brainless noodle?" I snapped, knowing that an insult like that wasn't very insulting.

"Kids, let's just calm down and figure this out," Dale proposed.

"If you had let him answer the door, Nick wouldn't have to kill him." Kurt snapped at me.

"I don't think I could go through with it," Nick confessed.

"Yeah, me neither." Dale sighed, "I fucking panicked and go out of there."

"And I don't know anything about this Julia chick, other than she's a skank. So I don't really have a reason to kill her," I pointed out.

"_What_? Are you fucking kidding me?" Kurt exclaimed.

"Would you be able to kill Julia?" Nick turned the tables.

"What? Oh, I don't know." Kurt said quietly, "Yeah, your right. It is a little hard trying to imagine killing her now."

"_Now_?" Nick repeated.

"What does _that_ mean?" I hissed at Kurt.

"You slept with her?" Dale squeaked.

"This time it wasn't my fault!" Kurt pleaded, and I rolled my eyes at his horniness.

Dale and Nick started yelling in unison, rambling about how stupid and what a mess Kurt was, when he finally shushed them and said, "Listen!"

"I watched her, like I was asked to do..." Kurt began.

"Yeah, that was _all_ you were asked to do!" Dale commented.

"She is so incredibly hot." Kurt gushed.

"Don't talk about how hot she is," Dale cringed.

"Kurt, if I'm a whore for being with Bobby, than you're a male prostitute for being with Julia." I muttered, crossing my arms and shooting him a look.

"Oh, c'mon! She was in her window, purposely undressing!" Kurt explained, "She was deliberately undressing, with the lights on! It's like she knew I was watching her. Then she goes and makes herself a snack. A popsicle, a banana and finally, a hot dog! Three penis shaped foods! Eating them in that weird order? That's not a proper meal!"

"It's cold to hot." Nick shrugged, reasoning what Kurt was saying.

"I can't believe you." I sighed, running a hand down my face.

"I can't believe you're fucking Pelitt." Kurt choked out a laugh. I shot him a dagger stare.

"Okay, so you took the penis foods as an invitation to fuck her?" Dale sighed.

"No. I took the invitation to fuck her, as an invitation to fuck her!" Kurt reasoned.

"Can we focus for a second, please? What are we going to do now that Harkin wants Pelitt's, and quite possibly Monika's, heads?" Nick asked.

"I don't want that bastard to shoot either of us!" I snapped.

"Monika." Kurt glanced at me.

"I mean it. I didn't want to say it before, but I don't want to kill Bobby. At first he was a pain in the ass - he still is, I hate him - but I still kinda have feelings for him. It's weird, but I don't want you to kill him. Seriously. At least he isn't waving a gun at anyone like Harkin is. I can keep some control over him, really. Can we just focusing on Harkin?" I ranted.

Kurt, Dale, and Nick stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Fine," Kurt groaned, "You owe me."

"The cops will be all over his apartment." Nick pointed out, "The neighbors were freaking out when we left."

"And I'm pretty sure Bobby was going to call the cops, too." I snorted.

"We call the police and put off an anonymous tip. That way, Julia's got the crazy fucked out of her, Harkin's in jail, and Monika's keeping Pelitt under control." Kurt pointed out.

"Harkin said he'll shoot me if I go to the police." I commented.

"You aren't going to the police, we're just calling." Kurt grinned dumbly.

"That's good," Nick said, "But we'll have to call from a payphone, or else it could get traced back to us."

"Exactly!" Kurt exclaimed.

* * *

I jumped into the backseat of Nick's Prius, next to Dale. Nick was in the driver's seat and Kurt was in the passenger seat. As Nick was buckling in, we heard the unmistakeable sound of police sirens right behind us. I swirled around, seeing a police car with an officer walking to us.

He tapped on the window and Nick slid the window down.

"Are you the owner of this vehicle?" The officer asked, glaring at Nick.

"I own it." Nick confirmed.

"We got an APV on a grey Toyota Prius. The Traffic Cam caught this car fleeing from the scene of a shooting. Would you happen to know anything about that?" The officer hissed.

"I don't know...I mean, I don't know. What happened?" Nick asked dumbly.

"Have you been drinking?" The officer questioned.

"This one, in the backseat." Nick pointed to Dale.

"I'm gonna need the four of you to follow us to the station." The officer requested, suspiciously looking at us.

"Officer, my man!" Kurt smiled, attempting to act cool again, sticking him arm out so he could fist-pump the officer, which landed us a ride in the cop car.

I was squished between Nick and Dale, an annoyed look on my face.

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this fucking thing, man!" Dale snapped.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt snapped back, "I was being hypothetical!"

"Stop arguing, we aren't in seventh grade!" I hissed over all the yelling.

To avoid the cops from hearing what we were talking about, Dale started cawing like a bird, and the three of us followed him and all did the same thing.

Once we were at Los Angeles Police Department, the four of us sat in an interrogation room, me sitting between Dale and Kurt.

"Wanna explain to me why you were doing 61 miles in a 25 mile zone?" The detective asked, arching an eyebrow at Nick, showing him a traffic cam picture of him freaking out while driving, "Right after fleeing from a shooting scene?"

I knew it wasn't a good idea for him to speed away like that.

"I was drag racing," Nick said seriously, "I'm a drag racer."

"You were drag racing..." The second detective asked, "In a Prius?"

There was an awkward silence when the four of us looked at each other, and Nick confessed, "I don't win a lot."

"What I don't understand," The first detective asked, "Is that minutes after a shooting, where we've found bullets and have witnesses from all the neighbors, we find you hanging out with this little freaky motherfucker, the registered sex-offender." He pointed to Dale.

I had to bite my lip to stop laughing.

"It was an empty playground." Dale said innocently.

"And these two," The first detective snapped, pointing to Kurt and I, "You both work for Pelitt Chemicals. Weirdly enough, it was at the outside of Pelitt's apartment were the shootings supposedly took place."

"Bobby Pelitt and I are dating. Why the hell would I be involved?" I snapped at the detectives.

"Maybe you get off at killing your boyfriend and boss." The first detective snapped.

"My boss was in danger? My goodness!" Kurt said innocently, then turned to Nick, "What were you doing there, Nick? What were you doing at his apartment?"

"What were you doing during the shootings, _Kurt_?" Nick snapped.

"I was making love." Kurt said pleasantly, "I as making love to a woman."

Nick rolled his eyes, along with Dale and I.

"Say if one of us knew who the shooter was," Kurt reasoned, "And we were able to tell you the perp...would we be subjected to some sort of immunity, right?"

"No. He or she would be entitled to some jail time." The first detective snapped, "Because if he or she knew who the shooter was and didn't tell us, it would be obstruction of justice."

The four of us swapped looks.

"Well, I'm glad none of us know who the shooter is, then." Kurt said smugly.

"If the four of you really think that we're going to believe that this is one big coincidence, we're gonna be here for a long time." The second detective said, standing up.

"I still don't know why I'm here." I muttered, "I wouldn't shoot the guy I'm fucking."

"You never know." The first detective said smugly.

"Okay, wait." Dale said, making everyone look at him, "By saying we're going to be here for a long time, you're implying that we're not allowed to leave. Which would only be the case if we were under arrest. Are we under arrest?"

"No," The first detective admitted, "We just brought you in for questioning."

"Well then! The fact is, you don't have sufficent evidence for an arrest warrant!" Dale squeaked.

"Not yet." The second detective said.

"Well then, according to the Fourth Amendment, we are free to go!" Dale exclaimed, standing up, "Are we not?"

"Well, technically, yeah..." The first detective sighed.

"Technically...good enough for me." Dale said triumphantly, clearing his throat and turning to Kurt, Nick and I, "Gentlemen, my lady. Let's go!"

The four of us scrambled to the elevator, while Dale was rambling how he learned that from Law & Order. We walked into the elevator, but just as it was about to close, the second detective held the door.

"Hold on there, Hot Shots." He said smugly, handing Nick a speeding ticket, "Ticket for speeding and running a red light."

Nick rolled his eyes, accepting the ticket.

"And don't you get to comfortable out there, the four of ya." The detective smirked, "Pelitt's hired the forensics team to sweep his house of DNA. He thinks someone's been watchin' him and maybe been in his house, that someone's lookin' to assassinate him. And I'm telling you, our team don't miss _shit_."

The elevator door shut, and Kurt's face fell.

* * *

"Why would you stick his entire bathroom up your ass?" Dale shrieked as Kurt drove through the Los Angeles night, the four of us freaking out.

"I didn't know my butthole has DNA!" Kurt defended himself.

"Of course there's DNA in your ass! You just like shoving shit down there, you fucking pervert!" Dale squeaked, his raspy voice and the high-pitch tone showing that he was getting worked up about it.

"At least you guys didn't leave any DNA at Pelitt's house!" Kurt snapped, "Well, except for Monika when she cums in Pelitt's bed."

"Hey!" I smacked the back of his head.

"Everyone, calm down." Nick reasoned.

"No! I can't afford a lawyer! I bought a ring that I can't even pay for, and I gave the rest of my motherfucking money to Motherfucker Jones!" Dale's voice was so high-pitched.

"Maybe we should go talk to him." Kurt said, begging for an answer.

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause he's covered us this far." Nick groaned.

We got to the same bar that we'd first met Motherfucker at, the four of us stumbling in like a bunch of insane idiots, scrambling up to Motherfucker, who was drinking whiskey at the bar.

"Hey, Motherfucker!" Kurt said, the four of us taking seats beside him.

"Hey, look who's back," He smirked, "How that _Strangers on a Train_ thing work for you?"

"It didn't," Nick pointed out.

"Well, one of the victims attempted to shoot the other intended victim, and now the shooter is after one of us." Nick explained, pointing at me, "And it turned out that the shooter victim is reall the worst out of the three..."

"We had nothing to do with it, but then the cops brought us in as suspects," Dale rambled, "But then the attempted victim called a fuckin' team to investigate, and we're worried that they'll find Kurt's DNA, because he shoved the victim's toothbrush up his ass."

Motherfucker gave a weirded-out look to Kurt.

"To help you, I need five thousand dollars." Motherfucker said.

"No!" Kurt, Dale, Nick and I all said at the same time.

"Fine. The guy who attempted to kill the other guy, do the cops suspect him?" Motherfucker asked.

"No." I said, "I can't tell them. The guy held a gun to me and told me not to tell the cops."

"Alright, here's what you do." Motherfucker said, "Get him to confess while wearing a tape recorder."

"Is that how they caught you when you murdered somebody?" Kurt asked.

"I didn't murder nobody." Motherfucker scoffed at us.

"Excuse me?" Nick asked, staring at him.

"I never murdered anybody." Motherfucker repeated.

"Wait...you said you did a dime for some pretty nasty shit!" Kurt said.

"If you didn't murder somebody, then what did you do?" Dale asked.

I rolled my eyes at all of them.

"Have you guys ever heard of the movie _Snowfalling on Cedars_?" Motherfucker asked.

"No." The four of us said in unison.

"What happened was, I took a video camera into that movie...and they were waiting right outside the exit for me." Motherfucker confessed.

The four of us stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You did ten years for video piracy?" Nick asked.

"They take that shit so seriously." Motherfucker said.

"We've been taking murder advice from a guy who's biggest crime is taping an Ethan Hawke movie!" Kurt snapped.

"So you do know the movie?" Motherfucker arched an eyebrow at him.

"Calm down, everybody." I attempted.

"So you're a video pirate, but why do you carry a gun on you?" Dale asked.

"A gun? No! It's my cell phone!" Motherfucker snapped, pulling it out.

"It's a cell phone? That's it, I'll be in the car!" Nick grunted, walking out of the bar.

"Y'know, you grab at it like a gun. You're gonna confuse people." Dale sighed.

"C'mon, let's go." Kurt sighed, Dale following him.

"This is so stupid." I muttered, Kurt dragging me out of the bar.

We drove through the night to Harkin's mansion, the tape recorder ready. We would get him to confess to being the one who wanted to assassinate Bobby. Then we'd be off the hook.

My Virgin Sidekick vibrated again. I opened it, seeing a new message from Bobby.

**Monika -  
Shootings outside the apartment, don't know if you saw it.  
What the fuck's going on? Call me or something.  
I'm talking to the cops now. Come over when you can.  
- Bobby**

Harkin better stay away from him.

**Review? :D**


	11. Every Night We Get High On Life

**Hey guys! Here's the last chapter! I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks again for reviewing it and reading it! :D**

**11**

"Alright, I got the tape recorder...pretty intense stuff." Dale boasted, holding the equipment in his hand. Kurt rolled his eyes and snatched the device from Dale's hand, "I'll do it. All we need is for you to mess it up."

"You're gonna do it?" Dale asked, "Cuz your gonna duct tape that to your chest, bud."

"I can't duct tape this to my chest," Kurt protested, "I have hair on it!"

"Just put it in your pocket! Why would he tape it to his chest?" Nick rolled his eyes.

"Guys, let's just do this, okay?" I huffed, and the four of us got out of Nick's Prius.

"So what do we do? Wait until he comes home, wait in his office, and dramatically spin around in his office chair and confront him?" Dale proposed.

"I call dibs on spinning around in the chair!" Kurt and I said in unison.

"He's my boss. I'm spinning around in the chair." Nick confirmed.

"Yeah, but he pointed a gun to my face, if you haven't forgotten." I pointed out.

"Okay, what if the four of us got office chairs and spun around at the same time?" Dale asked excitedly.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, right. That's really intimidating."

"That's not intimidating, that's like a musical number." Kurt said smugly.

Nick toggled with the door knob and it creaked open. The house was insanely dark, until the lights suddenly flickered on and a group of random people screamed, "Surprise!" at us. We stared wildly back, and a woman who I recognized from the pictures as Harkin's wife waltzed up to us.

She wore a blue dress, had blond hair, and looked like she was in her late thirties, "Keep mingling, it isn't him." She reassured her guests, who went back to talking in the living room.

She grinned widely, "Hi, who are you? Nevermind, come in, come in!"

Nick, Dale, Kurt and I looked at each other, puzzled.

"Now, you're that nice young man who helped Dave on the street the other night!" His wife said cheerfully.

"That's me." Dale said nervously.

"Did I invite you here?" She asked kindly.

"Well, ya did and you didn't..." Dale said carefully.

"It's fine! Let's go, we should hide, we should hide!" She giggled, grabbing Kurt by the hand and dragging us into the living room. I rolled my eyes as I watched Kurt check out Harkin's wife.

The four of us and the party guests ducked down and hit the lights. Kurt began making the moves on Harkin's wife, the three of us rolling our eyes as he used his usual pick-up lines asking if the girl was a model. Suddenly, the front door opened and everyone screamed "Surprise!" again, this time Harkin stood there.

"God, I hate that!" Harkin barked, throwing his suitcase to the floor, clearly startled.

"What a buzzkill." I mumbled to the guys, rolling my eyes.

"Honey, the guests are here." Harkin's wife said sweetly. Clearly that woman was just in the relationship for the money, because there is no way anyone would want to be with an asshole like that...

"I'm going to go put my stuff in the office." Harkin grumbled, and as he passed us he hissed to himself, "She knows I hate surprises!"

"What a happy birthday boy." I said sarcastically.

"Guys, he's in his office. Let's make our move, okay?" Nick said.

"I'm _very_ ready." Kurt said, practically drooling at Harkin's wife, who was seductively smiling at him from across the room.

"Let's go!" Nick announced, leading the way into Harkin's office. We followed him, past a few rooms and finally into a small room that was furnished with an office chair, desk, and a few cabinents, the whole room was cherry wood.

"You? My wife invited _you_?" Harkin snapped once he saw Nick. He looked at Dale, "And why the hell are you here? To stab me a few more times?"

"And you, Pelitt's prostitute! Did you give him the message?" Harkin barked at me.

"I'm not a prostitute!" I muttered under my breath.

"Look, we know what you did and what you're planning on doing." Nick said firmly. "We were there, we saw you shoot, and we know you're planning to kill."

"Really? So what is this, your little shakedown?" Harkin smugly replied, "You think you can blackmail me because I'm planning to kill my wife's_ lover_?"

"Actually, Pelitt's _her_ lover." Dale said, pointing to me. I crookedly grinned.

"He probably is screwing you at the same time." Harkin snapped, "But my wife was with him. And I'll gun him down for it."

"Say his name!" Dale shouted.

"What?" Harkin looked at Dale like he was an idiot.

"The man you're going kill. You say his name." Dale said.

"Pelitt? Trust me, Pelitt's name will mean _nothing_ in a few days." Harkin said darkly, then he looked at me, "And neither will yours."

My eyes widened.

"That's it! We got it, guys!" Nick said triumphantly, "Oh, shit. Where the fuck is Kurt?"

The four of us looked around, yet Kurt was nowhere to be found.

"I'm going to murder Pelitt!" Harkin snapped.

"Hold on a sec, lemme go get my friend Kurt..." Nick said, panicking.

"I'm going to go up to his door, put a bullet in his chest, and guess what? I'm gonna shoot him again. I'm going to like it. So if you three lame-ass blackmailers think I'm a pussy and won't do the same thing to you, think again." Harkin ranted.

"You know who thinks you're a pussy? My friend Kurt. Let me get him..." Nick said, turning to the door.

"You know, you're pathetic." Harkin snapped at Nick, "You come into my house on my birthday and pull this shit. Well, guess what?" He pointed to the three of us, "You're dead, you three and..."

"Kurt." Dale squeaked.

Harkin went to his drawer and shuffled through it.

"I didn't know it was your birthday..." Dale squeaked again, "Oh, hey...what do you got there?"

"Just getting my gun. It will only take a second." Harkin announced, grabbing the gun. Nick, Dale and I exchanged worried looks and sprinted out of the office, running through the large house through the party and sprinting for the door. Kurt was there, buckling his pants and he looked at us, "Hey, guys!"

"There you are!" I snapped, "Where the fuck were you? He confessed to everything!"

"Really?" Kurt asked, eyes wide. We saw Harkin's wife fixing her hair and dress as she walked out of the bathroom, walking quickly to the living room. They screwed, that's gross.

"You fucked her!" Dale squeaked.

"You horny little bastard!" I huffed, slapping Kurt.

Nick and Dale gave him a follow-up slap, before we sprinted out to the night and jumped into Nick's car, Kurt taking the wheel. We pulled out of the driveway quickly, on the road.

"I can't help myself!" Kurt defended himself, "She is _so_ hot!"

"Why are you always so horny?" I exploded at him, "Does your dick _ever_ stop?"

"No..." Kurt said.

We pulled up to Bobby's house, which had cop cars and everything around it. Bobby was outside talking to two cops, and the two detectives who interrogated us earlier were there, looking straight at us. Kurt's eyes widened and he began pulling away, "They must've found my DNA!"

"Your butt-brush?" Dale asked.

"I can't believe you did that." I groaned, running a hand down my face.

"Guys, don't panic. Ah, nevermind. We should panic." Nick freaked, "We'll have to move. Like, to Germany or Britain or Egypt or something!"

"No, we can't!" Kurt said.

"I have Stacy to think about!" Dale squealed frantically.

"How do I explain that to Bobby?" I yelled.

Suddenly, Dale's phone began ringing. "Fuck, it's Julia!" He ranted.

"Tell that _slut_ to take a hike!" I snapped. Dale flipped open the phone and began talking to her.

Utter insanity was being unleashed, and we all screamed when we heard and felt a SUV t-bone Nick's Prius. Harkin was in the driver's seat, purposely slamming his car into ours. We all screamed, Kurt trying to keep control of the car, as Dale - on Julia's demands - talked dirty to her.

"I'm going to dance on your boobies!" Dale exclaimed as the car spun.

Kurt drove as fast as he could away, but Harkin was hot on our tails.

"Hey, Gregory!" Kurt said, begging the _NapGuide _assistant on the GPS to help, "You gotta help us, buddy. We got a murderer on our tail because we were gonna murder him."

"I'm sorry, sir. But we here at _NapGuide _are instructed to report crimes when we are witnessed to them. I am shutting down your vehicle now and notifying authorities." The voice said.

"What?" I shouted, glaring at the GPS.

"Friday? I'm fucking you on Friday? Okay, sounds good! See you Friday!" Dale shouted into his cell phone's reciever to Julia. Once he hung up, he glared at Kurt.

"Nice job fucking the crazy out of her, Kurt!" Dale shouted in a high-pitched scream.

"Sorry! Maybe I should've danced on her boobs!" Kurt snapped back.

"Just drive the _fucking_ car!" I barked at the two idiots.

Kurt flipped a shit, as did Dale and Nick, when the car came to an abrupt halt on a dark side street. We thought Harkin had stopped chasing us, up until his car rammed into ours, leaving the back bumper squashed and Dale and I groaning in pain, Nick and Kurt trying to put out the airbags that had come shooting out.

Harkin tapped on the glass with his gun, and Kurt rolled down the window.

"C'mon, get out! All of you!" Harkin ordered, waving his gun.

The four of us hesitantly climbed out of the wrecked car, Dale begging, "REmember when I saved your life...?"

"Shut up." Harkin snapped.

"Take it easy." Nick suggested.

"Shut up!" Harkin repeated.

"I have eight bullets in this gun, which means I could shoot all of you twice, just like I'm going to do to that bastard, Pelitt." Harkin said.

"Wait, you're not going to shoot us twice, or your not going to shoot us at all?" Dale squeaked. "Shut _up_." Harkin snapped through his clenched teeth, and I elbowed Dale in the ribcage to get him to be quiet.

"I have a better idea. I'm telling the cops that you were the ones who wanted to kill Pelitt and are planning to kill him. It's believeable, after all. You do have his call girl and employee in your midst." Harkin smirked smugly, "And when I found out, you tried to kill me to shut me up!"

"That's insane!" I snapped.

"Is it?" Harkin said, wiping down the gun, "Because there isn't a shred of evidence that I'm going to kill Pelitt. Besides, I'm the one with the bullet in his leg."

"What?" Nick asked, puzzled.

_Bang!_

Harkin shot himself right in the leg, causing me to jump, along with the guys. I yelped, clutching onto Kurt in surprise, glancing at Harkin as he bit his fist to control the pain of the bullet. He threw the gun at Dale, "Here, catch!"

The three of us yelled at him not to catch it, but it was too late.

Dale caught it.

"See? You can't win a marathon without putting some band-aids on your nipples first!" Harkin exclaimed, pointing at Dale, who looked confused.

"What does _that_ mean?" Dale mumbled to himself.

"Watch this." Harkin said smugly, whimpering then dramatically dropping to the ground in fake pain. On cue, cop cars with their sirens were at every corner; there was no escape.

One of the detectives from earlier sprung from one of the cop cars, "Freeze, the four of you! Put your hands up where I can see them, and drop the gun!"

The four of us instantly raised our hands, Dale dropping the gun.

Cops ran to us, making us get on our knees and put our hands behind our head. Harkin turned to one of the cops, "Thank God you're here, officer. These four lunatics shot me! They're trying to kill me!"

"Bullshit!" I shouted, "You fucking_ liar_!"

"That's a lie!" Dale, Nick and Kurt said in unison.

Bobby suddenly pulled up next to one of the cop cars in his Ferrari, looking insanely confused as he stepped out of his car. He stood with one of the detectives a few feet away.

"Bobby!" I exclaimed, looking at him.

Kurt groaned.

"Monika, what the _fuck_ is going on?" He asked, glaring at me with his paranoid brown eyes.

"I can explain!" I pleaded, giving him a weak look.

"They're going to murder Pelitt and once I knew about it, they tried to murder me to shut me up!" Harkin ranted.

"_What_?" Bobby asked, looking at Harkin, who stood a few feet away. The cops checked our pockets, and the one who checked Kurt said, "What's _this_?"

"It's just a tape recorder." Kurt said calmly, then remembered, "Shit! It's a tape recorder!"

The four of us stood up frantically, but the cops yelled at us to put our hands up again. We put our hand behind or heads.

"Just listen to it!" Dale begged, "It has Harkin saying he's going to kill Pelitt and that he's going to shoot him twice! And that he was gonna shoot us!"

"Why the flying _fuck_ do you people want to _shoot_ me?" Bobby exclaimed, insanely confused.

"You're insane!" Harkin snapped at Dale.

"Just listen to the tape!" Nick reassured the detective.

The detective clicked "Play" on the recorder. All that was on there was Kurt having sex with Harkin's wife, and Dale promising to dance on Julia's boobs. "What the fuck is this? There's nothing on here!" The detective snapped.

"Way to go, sex monkey." I growled at Kurt.

"They're liars, the four of them. They can't be trusted. They shot me in the leg, they're going to kill Pelitt." Harkin yelled.

"_What the fuck is going on_?" Bobby yelled, frustrated that no one was filling him in.

"Everyone, I've heard quite enough." The detective said, looking at the cops then us, "Cuff them."

"Monika, I can't fucking believe it." Bobby said, glaring at me with annoyance in his eyes. "This seriously isn't what it looks like," I sighed, the cop trying to cuff me.

"Excuse me, officers." Gregory the NapGuide's voice flowed out of the car, "But it is NapGuide's policy to record all conversations for filing purposes."

"Yes! Gregory, my man. Play back the conversation just after the crash." Kurt pleaded.

"Very good sir." Gregory replied, instantly replaying the conversation with Harkin, saying how he planned to kill Bobby and us, too. While it played, Bobby took a few steps back, looking wildly at Harkin.

"You four are fine," The detective said after it was done, then looked at Harkin, "You, on the other hand, are under arrest."

Harkin shouted as they put him into cuffs and the four of us slapped hand and cheered in relief. Kurt smirked and said, "By the way, that _was_ your wife."

"You fucked my wife?" Harkin barked.

"Yup!" Kurt exclaimed proudly. Harkin jumped for Kurt, but the detective ordered the cops to put him in the cop car and take him away. But, Nick punched him first.

"How do you like them nipples?" Nick shouted.

"Good Will Hunting?" I arched my eyebrow.

"You got it!" Nick smiled triumphantly.

Bobby walked to me, and I smiled at him and jumped on him, hugging him tightly. Surprised, he hugged me back and laughed a little bit.

"Seriously, I don't know what the_ fuck_ just happened." He said into my shoulder as I embraced him. I looked up at his paranoid brown eyes. I smirked, before he pressed his mouth to mine.

"Trust me. It's a _long_ story."

* * *

So, Nick got Harkin's job, as Harkin is now in prison. He's his own boss, which he finds to be satisfying. Of course, he's now informed Dale, Kurt and I that the acting CEO is apparently a "twisted old fuck". Whatever _that_ means.

Dale, on the other hand, trapped Julia. With Motherfucker Jones and Kenny Sommerfield's help, they caught Julia on camera trying to fuck with a patient, and Dale bribed her to give him two weeks paid vacation, stop harassing him, and he is satisfied that he now works in a "rape-free workplace". And, his wedding's coming up with me as a bridesmaid with Stacy.

Kurt is still in his accountant manager at Pelitt & Son. Bobby's still the owner and CEO, and I'm still his assistant. I got him to not use Bolivian, we're sticking with safe companies. Nevertheless, I've got him under control, kind of. Kurt and Bobby are attempting to get along, for my sake. Bobby is still an avid cocaine user, but I'm trying to get him to take it down a notch. We're engaged, too. We're getting married next summer.

He's still an dipshit cokehead playboy, but he's _my _dipshit cokehead playboy.

And that's really the way it should be.

**Thanks so much for reading!  
Review? ;D**


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